PARFIT 
 GENTIL 
 KNIGHT 
 
 IT p n a q_2- 
 
 CHARLTON ANDREWS
 
 / e J
 
 RAOUL AND VICTOIRE SAT BEFORE A GREAT SMOLDERING FIRE
 
 Parfit Gentil Knight 
 
 By 
 
 Charlton Andrews 
 
 With 12 Full-Page Drawings by J. H. Vanderpoel 
 
 Chicago 
 
 A. C. McClurg & Co. 
 1901
 
 COPYRIGHT 
 BY A. C. MCCLURG & Co. 
 
 A.D. IQOI
 
 S>R CAUF. LIBRARY, LOS ANGELES 
 
 TO THE 
 
 SYMPATHETIC AND INSPIRING COLLABORATOR, 
 WHO is 
 
 MY WIFE. 
 
 AUGUST, 1901.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. A RENDEZVOUS AND A PARENT n 
 
 II. A SURPRISE AND A SWORDSMAN 23 
 
 III. A CAPITULATION AND A MESSAGE .... 33 
 
 IV. A HUGUENOT AND A PRINCE 45 
 
 V. A CARDINAL AND AN AMBITION 59 
 
 VI. A LADY AND A LOVER 66 
 
 VII. A VISITOR AND AN AVOWAL 79 
 
 VIII. A CONFIDANT AND A RESOLUTION .... 88 
 
 IX. A HUSBAND AND A FRIEND 97 
 
 X. A VOLUME AND AN APOSTASY no 
 
 XI. A PLOT AND A WARNING 124 
 
 XII. AN ANXIETY AND A SUBTERFUGE .... 132 
 
 XIII. A BATTLE AND A STRANGER 143 
 
 XIV. AN ENCOUNTER AND A RECEPTION .... 155 
 XV. A REPULSE AND A SUSPICION 167 
 
 XVI. A RUSE AND AN INTERVENTION 178 
 
 XVII. A SUBJECT AND A SOVEREIGN 191 
 
 XVIII. A PORTRAYAL AND A PROMISE 200 
 
 XIX. A CAMP AND AN INCIDENT ....... 208 
 
 XX. A TRAITOR AND AN EXPEDIENT 222 
 
 XXI. A CATASTROPHE AND A FRUSTRATION . . . 233 
 
 XXII. A TEMPER AND A RECONCILIATION .... 241 
 
 2125479
 
 Vlii CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XXIII. A RUMOR AND AN ERROR 255 
 
 XXIV. A DUEL AND AN INTERRUPTION .... 257 
 XXV. A FALSEHOOD AND ANOTHER 281 
 
 XXVI. AN EXPLANATION AND AN ARREST . . . 295 
 
 XXVII. A RESTRAINT AND A DELIVERANCE . . . 307 
 
 XXVIII. A RECITAL AND A REQUEST 325 
 
 XXIX. A QUARREL AND A REPENTANCE .... 339 
 
 XXX. A FATALITY AND A TEMPTATION .... 347 
 
 XXXI. A DISASTER AND A LIGHT 362 
 
 XXXII. A PROMISE AND A BLUNDER 377 
 
 XXXIII. A MASSACRE AND A MANIAC 392 
 
 XXXIV. A LOVE AND A LIFE 402
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Raoul and Victoire sat before a smouldering fire Frontispiece 
 
 Antoinette was assisting Victoire de Mdzieres in her toilet 14 
 
 Chabanes had lifted her from the floor 1 20 
 
 A soldier carried him from the field across the saddlebows 145 
 
 The two young men perceived a small skiff 159 
 
 It was evident that the plans had been carefully laid . . 227 
 
 At that point the door on the gallery opened 275 
 
 " If I go, it will be when you are free " 319 
 
 He wheels his horse and looks up to the window . . . 372 
 
 " I disappear by the aid of faithful and subtle friends " . 384 
 Chabanes perceived a man standing with one foot on the 
 
 body 393 
 
 Presently the German returned on foot to renew the 
 
 conflict 407
 
 A Parfit Gentil Knight 
 
 A RENDEZVOUS AND A PARENT 
 
 ONE radiant moonlit night in the month of June, 
 1567, a small troop of horsemen were skirting 
 the ivy-covered wall of a great gloomy chateau, whose 
 blank windows, but one of which was lighted, reflected 
 weirdly the golden effulgence that cast deep black 
 shadows into the numberless corners and angles of 
 the irregular fagade. The leader of these men was a 
 tall, majestic youth, whose high and haughty expres- 
 sion marked him as a gentleman of unmistakable 
 birth and breeding, accustomed only to the obedience 
 and deference that his companions showed him in 
 every look, word, and action. These others were 
 evidently gentlemen in attendance on him. One of 
 them, whose guttural accents betrayed his German 
 origin, approached the young man, who was im- 
 patiently spurring his horse out of the walk into 
 which it had fallen, and spoke to him in a low and 
 respectful tone. 
 
 " Your pardon, Monseigneur, but had we not better 
 proceed more slowly? It is a full hour till the time 
 appointed for the rendezvous."
 
 12 A PARFIT GEN TIL KNIGHT 
 
 The young man so addressed brought his riding- 
 whip down on his long boot with such force that his 
 horse bounded off at a gallop and was only stopped 
 with difficulty some paces ahead of the others, who 
 hastened to overtake their impatient leader. The 
 German was quickly beside his master again. 
 
 " A thousand devils, Besme ! " cried the latter. 
 "Am I to go forever skulking about here like a 
 thief because the Marquis de Mezieres has a hand- 
 ful of armed knaves to guard his crumbling old 
 chateau?" 
 
 " But, Monseigneur," humbly remonstrated Besme, 
 " let me recall the dangers to which you might subject 
 Mademoiselle." 
 
 " True, true," replied the youth ; " your accursed 
 foresight is infallible. But how much longer have we 
 to wait? " 
 
 As he spoke he drew from a pocket of his gray- 
 and-silver doublet a richly chased watch, which he 
 eagerly examined by the pale light of the moon 
 pouring over the wall to his left. 
 
 "The note, Monseigneur," the German continued, 
 deferentially, " expressly requested that no sign of 
 your presence should be given before eleven. At 
 that hour the guard is to be withdrawn and the meet- 
 ing may take place in safety both to yourself and to 
 Mademoiselle." 
 
 The young man, who was no other than Henri de 
 Lorraine, Due de Guise, had scarcely heeded Besme's 
 words. The hands of the watch marked ten o'clock, 
 and as though he doubted their accuracy and wished 
 to be more thoroughly convinced, he pressed a spring
 
 A RENDEZVOUS AND A PARENT 13 
 
 in the stem, and the clear, musical tones of a tiny 
 silver bell struck the hour. 
 
 " Ten o'clock," said Besme, who had counted the 
 strokes ; " you see it is yet a full hour." 
 
 The Due de Guise bit his lip and smothered an 
 impatient oath. Then he impulsively leaped from his 
 horse, which by now had almost reached the great 
 arched gate in the chateau wall, gave the reins to one 
 of his followers, threw his long black mantle on the 
 grass at the side of the road, and lay down on it. 
 His eye followed the line of blank windows behind 
 the wall until it rested on one faintly lighted from 
 within by the gleam of a candle. It was the chamber 
 of Victoire de Mezieres, and at sight of it the duke's 
 heart bounded with mingled expectancy and longing. 
 The other cavaliers, following their leader's example, 
 reclined at full length on the ground, conversing in 
 low tones. From time to time the duke uttered a 
 sigh or an oath of impatience and several times he 
 drew out his watch, making it strike the hour that 
 was so slow in passing. 
 
 However, he kept his eye almost constantly on the 
 single lighted window of the chateau. 
 
 The chamber from which this window opened was 
 hung with dingy tapestries that emitted a musty odor 
 of age and that added greatly to the solemn gloom 
 of the apartment. The single candle that joined its 
 feeble rays with the more ample light of the moon, 
 streaming directly in on the heavy dark carpet, stood 
 in a silver candelabrum on a carved oak table, over 
 which were strewn numerous jewelled boxes, brushes, 
 and articles of the feminine toilet. Before this table,
 
 14 A PARFIT GEN TIL KNIGHT 
 
 facing a large oval mirror, were two young women. 
 The elder of them was dark and of slight stature. 
 Her features were somewhat irregular, her complexion 
 olive, and her figure rather too plump to suggest a 
 Greek goddess, but she wore a general air of joviality 
 combined with frankness that was almost captivating. 
 Antoinette de Lerac, the last of a race that had con- 
 tributed no little to the greatness of France, but that 
 had gradually lost its estates and prestige, was the 
 maid and companion of Victoire de M6zieres. The 
 two girls had passed together the greater portion of 
 their otherwise lonely lives, and the friendship of 
 childhood had ripened with themselves until they 
 had become inseparable companions. 
 
 Victoire de Mezieres, whom Antoinette was as- 
 sisting in the arrangement of an elaborate toilet, 
 daughter and heiress of the Marquis de Mezieres, 
 was a very beautiful young girl. Tall and stately, 
 she had lustrous black hair, a complexion of dazzling 
 whiteness, and intensely deep blue eyes, from whose 
 liquid depths there shone the light .of an ardent 
 nature, which, in spite of its almost haughty pride, 
 was capable of great tenderness and keen sympathy. 
 The full, ripe curve of her perfect mouth added an 
 irresistible charm to her countenance, and her willowy, 
 girlish figure was already ravishing in its graceful 
 symmetry. 
 
 The two women, as they proceeded with the almost 
 completed toilet, conversed in subdued tones, as 
 though fearful of being overheard. Guise must have 
 been gratified could he have seen the impatience 
 with which Victoire permitted Antoinette to comb
 
 4 < . 
 
 J 
 
 ANTOINETTE WAS ASSISTING VICTOIRE DE MEZIERES IN HER TOILET
 
 A RENDEZVOUS AND A PARENT 15 
 
 out her long black tresses ; and could he have heard 
 the mingled eagerness and sorrow that softened her 
 voice as she spoke to the maid of this rendezvous, 
 which in all probability was to be their last, his 
 heart would have been filled with pride. 
 
 For the twentieth occasion in the course of an 
 hour Victoire demanded the time. 
 
 " Half-past ten, Mademoiselle," replied Antoinette, 
 who for convenience had placed her watch on the 
 dressing-table. 
 
 " Anne, I honestly believe you . are setting back 
 that watch ! Its hands have not moved five minutes 
 during a whole half-hour ! " 
 
 " Remember the guard, Mademoiselle ! We must 
 not endanger our lovers' lives." 
 
 " ' Lovers,' indeed ! Why do you always designate 
 our friends by that term? Even if you persist in 
 calling M. de Guise my lover, you know very well 
 I shall not grant that remarkable German a similar 
 position in your esteem. Confess that you only 
 laugh at him." 
 
 "And who would not?" cried the maid, gleefully. 
 " With his great bristling moustaches and swaggering 
 walk, what fitter subject for mirth could there be ? 
 Ah, you should hear him make love ! " 
 
 " For shame, Anne ! This Besme is only a soldier 
 and a valiant retainer of the duke ; if he woos awk- 
 wardly, doubtless his heart is true, and you should 
 deal gently with him." 
 
 " In my opinion, Mademoiselle," replied Antoi- 
 nette, earnestly, " his valor is all sham. He parades 
 his courage and fidelity on every occasion, and I
 
 1 6 A PAR FIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 fancy it all springs from a very fertile and vainglori- 
 ous imagination. Of one thing I am certain : he is 
 unscrupulous and deceitful." 
 
 " Come, Anne, you are too severe. M. de Guise 
 would be sure to know of any such defect in this 
 Besme." 
 
 " And what if he did ? Do not all great princes 
 have their unprincipled followers, who when occasion 
 demands will quietly cut a throat or start a lie?" 
 
 " My dear Anne, what a humor you are in to- 
 night ! " exclaimed Victoire, in astonishment. " I 
 cannot allow you to suggest such dreadful things. 
 You, as well as I, know M. de Guise to be the soul 
 of honor. He, of all men, would be the last to 
 stoop to crime, no matter what end he might have 
 in view." 
 
 In the half-light of the flickering candle, Victoire 
 could not decipher the incredulous expression her 
 maid's features wore, although the shrug of the 
 shoulders, that greeted the defense of Guise, was 
 apparent enough. There was a short silence, which 
 Victoire broke by asking earnestly, "Anne, what 
 is your real opinion of the Due de Guise?" 
 
 "The Due de Guise, Mademoiselle? He is a tall, 
 handsome, haughty, majestic, gracious youth, full of 
 ambition and energy and an intense admiration for 
 the daughter of the Marquis de M6zieres, who re- 
 ceives his advances almost as coldly as does her 
 father " 
 
 " Ah, but I know all that. I want your opinion 
 of the duke's character." 
 
 " Mademoiselle, it is my simple opinion that the
 
 A RENDEZVOUS AND A PARENT I? 
 
 Due de Guise is much the same in character as all 
 other great princes." 
 
 " Nonsense, Anne ! You only wish to be contrary. 
 Now give me my ruff and be sensible. M. de Guise 
 is coming for the last time. When we see him again 
 we shall be the great lady and her good companion, 
 equal in rank and all other things to himself, as 
 becomes the wife of a prince and her chief lady-in- 
 waiting, del! It is five minutes to eleven! Are 
 you sure the marquis has retired?" 
 
 " Gaston said his master was in bed a full hour 
 ago." 
 
 " And our valiant guard? " 
 
 " Is about to retire to its quarters." 
 
 The maid had scarcely spoken when the two 
 heard the measured tramp of the guard returning 
 to quarters through the corridor. When the last 
 steps had died away, Antoinette cautiously opened 
 the window and looked below. The Due de Guise, 
 wrapped in his cloak, was standing just beneath her, 
 and some paces behind him crouched Besme, sword 
 in hand. The maid placed her finger to her lips 
 enjoining silence, to which gesture the duke replied 
 with a nod. Then Antoinette returned to the table, 
 from which she took a 'ball of silk cord, smiling at 
 Victoire, who, trembling with expectation, stood be- 
 fore the mirror adding the last touches to her toilet. 
 The maid dropped the ball from the window, retain- 
 ing one end of the cord, to the other end of which 
 Besme, having approached, attached a stout rope- 
 ladder. This was quickly drawn up, and in a few 
 seconds the Due de Guise, hat in hand, entered the
 
 1 8 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 chamber. He was followed by the German, who 
 drew up the ladder and closed the window. 
 
 Guise advanced to the table, where Victoire still 
 stood, and, kneeling, fervently kissed her hand. 
 Victoire sighed gently, scarce knowing how to speak, 
 and Guise, emboldened by her apparent confusion, 
 arose and was about to clasp her in his arms. She 
 divined his purpose and, restraining him with a ges- 
 ture, motioned him to a seat beside her on a low 
 divan. Antoinette and Besme discreetly withdrew to 
 another corner of the room. 
 
 Victoire was the first to speak. 
 
 " Forgive me, Monsieur," she said, softly, " for 
 having exposed you to the dangers you brave in 
 coming here to-night ; but since my father has irrevo- 
 cably decided on my immediate marriage with the 
 Prince de Montpensier, from to-morrow the prepara- 
 tions for the wedding will actively commence. I 
 my interest in you " 
 
 The duke impulsively interrupted her. 
 
 "Victoire, is there no way to prevent this? I 
 know your father is obdurate; none the less so is 
 my uncle, the Cardinal de Lorraine. My request 
 that he beseech the king to forbid this marriage 
 has only brought on me his reproaches and dis- 
 favor. He tells me that the pride of a Guise should 
 teach me to treat with silent contempt your father's 
 breach of faith. And when, at length, in despair, 
 I confessed that I loved you, that it was not for 
 the Due du Maine, my brother, to whom you 
 were first affianced, that I wanted you, I was sent 
 from him ridiculed and in disgrace. No earthly
 
 A RENDEZVOUS AND A PARENT ig 
 
 power can move my uncle, nor, as it seems, your 
 father." 
 
 He paused, breathless after this outburst, and cast 
 at Victoire so ardent a look that she blushed modestly 
 and glanced down at the floor. 
 
 " Monsieur," she said, in a troubled tone, " you 
 must know this is all very difficult for me. And yet, 
 perhaps it is for the best that circumstances have 
 changed. For political reasons there is great advan- 
 tage, my father assures me, in the immediate alliance 
 of our house with that of Bourbon." 
 
 " But your father has broken his word to my uncle, 
 the cardinal ! " cried the duke, who knew that the 
 advantage lay in the Bourbons obtaining possession 
 of the wealth to which Victoire was heiress. 
 
 " I know," she replied, sadly, " and although he 
 excuses himself on the ground of 'welfare of the 
 State,' I cannot so easily forgive him. But more 
 than this, Monsieur ; perhaps it is the hand of Provi- 
 dence that thus gives me to this young prince, whom 
 I have never even seen, rather than to the brother of 
 the of yourself, Monsieur." 
 
 Guise regarded her tenderly; there were tears 
 glistening in her great blue eyes. 
 
 " Victoire," he exclaimed, seizing her hand, which 
 she did not at once withdraw, and pressing it passion- 
 ately, " it is not as my sister-in-law that I would have 
 you. I have come to-night to ask you to go with me, 
 to fly from all this sordid intrigue that so enmeshes us 
 and that makes our lives such miserable struggles " 
 
 Victoire, having acquired greater control of her 
 feelings, interrupted him.
 
 2O A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 " Monsieur, this is indeed a proof of the esteem in 
 which you hold me; but, without doubting in the 
 least your evident sincerity, I cannot help ascribing 
 your words to impulse, and feeling that any action 
 taken on them now could result only in measureless 
 regret. Hear me, I beg of you," she continued, as 
 he attempted to interrupt. " Does it stand to reason 
 that the head of the house of Lorraine, that the Due 
 de Guise, the acknowledged leader of the Catholics, 
 on whom must fall the heaviest duties in the defense 
 of his faith and his country, could afford to defy 
 France and the king, for my father assures me that 
 his Majesty has been led to sanction my marriage 
 with M. de Montpensier, by eloping with the 
 daughter of a simple marquis, the fiancee of another 
 man ? I beg of you to reconsider your words and to 
 withdraw them at once. Monsieur, why did the 
 Cardinal de Lorraine ridicule you when you told him 
 that your interest in me was more than he had 
 supposed ? It was because he was ambitious for 
 you, if you will not be so for yourself. It was because 
 even then his eyes were on one that " 
 
 She hesitated. The duke saw her beautiful under- 
 lip quiver and her eyes fill with tears. Unable to 
 restrain himself longer, he decided to play his last 
 card. 
 
 " Victoire," he cried, " you are unjust ; you do not 
 trust me. What are all the ambitions of the cardinal 
 to me when you are in the question, when I love you 
 so ? I know your meaning. It is that my uncle 
 dreams of marrying me to Marguerite de Valois, the 
 sister of the king. But I swear to you, that marriage
 
 A RENDEZVOUS AND A PARENT 21 
 
 shall never take place while I have the slightest 
 assurance of your interest in me. I love you, Vic- 
 toire, and not even Madame, with all her beauty, 
 accomplishments, rank, can ever for an instant influ- 
 ence me to forget you, who are so far her superior." 
 
 " I shall always be your friend, Henri," replied 
 Victoire, tenderly. "The short, sweet days that we 
 have passed together shall always remain in my 
 memory as the time of my greatest happiness. If 
 you would only admit it to yourself, you would real- 
 ize the impossibility of the plan you propose. My 
 father has been a hard master in many ways, but 
 I owe him much, and I shall try to do my duty. 
 Think for a moment of my prospects ; are they more 
 alluring than your own ? I am to marry one that I 
 have never seen, that I have scarcely heard of, that I 
 cannot be expected to love. Do your duty to your 
 king and to yourself, Henri, and you will help me 
 to discharge my own." 
 
 Guise would listen no longer. " Milles diables ! " 
 he exclaimed, petulantly. " I will make my duty 
 what I will, and you can do likewise if you so 
 desire ! " 
 
 Victoire smiled sadly. "Foolish boy," she said, 
 "will you never learn to control your impulses? 
 Take care lest they lead you too far ! Is it not 
 passing strange that the great Due de Guise should 
 learn his lesson of obedience from the frivolous little 
 Victoire de Mezieres? " 
 
 To divert his vehemence she signed to Antoi- 
 nette, who was sedulously conversing with Besme. 
 Guise, regarding the gesture as one of indifference,
 
 22 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 arose ceremoniously. As he did so a step was heard 
 in the corridor, and almost at the same moment the 
 voice of one of Guise's gentlemen below the win- 
 dow. Besme darted to the window, and Antoinette 
 to the door. 
 
 "What is the matter?" asked Besme, in a loud 
 whisper. 
 
 "The guard is out and we are about to be sur- 
 rounded," replied the gentleman below ; " come down 
 at once, for the love of Heaven ! " 
 
 At that moment began a loud knocking at the 
 door, and above the noise could be distinguished 
 the piping voice of the old Marquis de Me"zieres 
 demanding admittance. 
 
 The duke glanced anxiously at Victoire. "And 
 this is your final decision?" he asked, gloomily. 
 
 " Mon Dieu, yes ! You must fly at once. Your 
 life is in danger." 
 
 " She is right, Monseigneur," said Besme, who had 
 overheard her last words. " It would be madness for 
 you to stay." He was evidently impatient to go. 
 
 Guise stubbornly appealed again to Victoire. 
 
 " Go, if you love me! " she commanded, trembling 
 with fright 
 
 Guise knelt reluctantly and kissed her hand. " God 
 knows I love you ! " he muttered. Then he turned 
 petulantly and descended the ladder, which Besme 
 had already lowered. The German followed at once 
 and drew down the ladder, when Antoinette had un- 
 fastened it above.
 
 II 
 
 A SURPRISE AND A SWORDSMAN 
 
 ON reaching the ground Guise found his four 
 gentlemen awaiting him with great impatience. 
 
 " Monseigneur," cried the one that had given 
 warning, " make haste for your life ! The guard is 
 assembling and in a moment will be at our heels." 
 
 "Where are the horses? " asked Besme. 
 
 " Here," replied the gentleman, leading that of the 
 duke out of a neighboring shadow. 
 
 The duke mounted, and his example was at once 
 followed by the others, all of whom were anxiously 
 looking toward the quarters of the guard, where 
 moving lights and the sound of voices and footsteps 
 betokened some unusual activity. 
 
 Guise, seeing no armed men in the park other 
 than his own, deprecated the others' alarm. 
 
 " Diable, Messieurs ! " he said, contemptuously, " it 
 seems we are flying on the slightest provocation 
 to-night. We are in no imminent peril, I believe. 
 For half a word," he added to himself, "I would 
 return to Victoire and remain until there was real 
 danger." 
 
 However, hearing above the high voice of the 
 marquis, he decided to ride on with his men. Angry 
 at thus having his rendezvous disturbed at so impor-
 
 24 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 tant a moment, he felt that a sharp encounter with 
 the marquis's men-at-arms would be a not unpleasant 
 relief. No one had been seen leaving the guard's 
 quarters, and he turned despairingly, swearing softly 
 to himself, to take up his way to Paris. His gentle- 
 men were disposed to make all possible haste, but 
 he rode slowly and sullenly toward the gate, and 
 they were constrained to follow at a no more rapid 
 pace. Victoire's remark about the cardinal's ambi- 
 tion had set him thinking. 
 
 " Brother to the king ! " he muttered, half-audibly. 
 " Why not more than brother ? Why not king? At 
 any rate, by God's death, this woman shall not 
 always elude me ! " 
 
 He looked cautiously around him to see if any one 
 might have overheard. 
 
 " How my reverie would please M. le Cardinal de 
 Lorraine ! " he thought ; " he would call me a true 
 son of the house of Guise, and forgive the former 
 lack of pride with which he reproached me." 
 
 As Guise, thus wrapped in meditation, his left 
 hand caressing his chin, rode slowly down the 
 avenue that led to the gate, he failed to notice that 
 the latter had been closed and bolted since he and 
 his gentlemen had entered the park. Besme, riding 
 up to him, attracted his attention to this ominous 
 fact. One of the gentlemen dismounted and, on 
 examining the fastenings of the gate, found that it 
 would not budge. 
 
 " Is there no other exit?" demanded Guise. 
 
 " There is, Monseigneur," answered Besme ; " it is 
 on the opposite side of the park, and to reach it
 
 A SURPRISE AND A SWORDSMAN 2$ 
 
 we should have to pass the quarters of the guard. 
 Moreover, we should doubtless find the other gate 
 fastened exactly as is this one, and we should have 
 only our ride for our trouble." 
 
 "Nevertheless, we cannot open this one, so we 
 may as well try the other." 
 
 " Monseigneur," said Besme, anxiously, " let me 
 implore you not to do so rash a thing. We should 
 undoubtedly bring the guard down on us, and, al- 
 though there are none readier to fight for you than 
 those you see about you, we should be greatly out- 
 numbered and eventually overpowered." 
 
 " And what would you have me do, Besme ? " 
 asked the duke, ironically. " Leave my horse, scale 
 the wall, and run for my life?" Then he added 
 sternly, turning to the others, " Right about, Mes- 
 sieurs; we are going to see whether M. de M^zieres 
 has closed all his gates." 
 
 The gentlemen, who had expected first a repri- 
 mand for having allowed the gate to be closed with- 
 out their knowledge, turned reluctantly, feeling with 
 Besme that such a course was the height of mad- 
 ness. This time their leader put spurs to his horse 
 and led them at a merry pace back along the 
 avenue that followed the irregularities of the cha- 
 teau's fagade. 
 
 As they approached the quarters of the guard the 
 commotion within seemed to increase. Guise, begin- 
 ning to foresee trouble, halted suddenly, and his men 
 drew up around him. 
 
 " If we are attacked," he said, calmly, " there is 
 but one course for us: we must charge them as
 
 26 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 they leave their quarters and fight our way to the 
 other gate, the location of which is known to Besme, 
 who will lead. Draw swords, Messieurs, and let us 
 give these rascals a taste of steel ! " 
 
 With that he turned and drove the spurs into his 
 horse, which plunged forward followed by the others 
 of the little troop. Greatly to the surprise of all, 
 however, on reaching the quarters of the guard they 
 found that building deserted and dark. Some paces 
 ahead Besme, whose eyes were keenest in time of 
 danger, thought he saw armed cavaliers. This belief 
 was verified when, a moment later, they came on 
 ten mounted guardsmen, each armed with sword and 
 arquebus. Fortunately for Guise and his followers, 
 the matches in these latter weapons had not been 
 lighted, and on being suddenly attacked from the 
 rear, the marquis's guards, taken quite by surprise, 
 after ineffectual efforts to fire their useless weapons, 
 threw them down and drew their swords. In the 
 meantime, however, Besme, taking advantage of their 
 helplessness, had rushed fiercely on the astonished 
 foe and had disabled two of the most unprepared. 
 The other gentlemen, led by Guise, began such a 
 cutting and slashing as had not occurred near the 
 old chateau in many a day. It was quickly demon- 
 strated that the guardsmen were no matches at 
 sword-play for the duke and his companions. In- 
 deed, Guise exclaimed in the thick of the combat, 
 " Why, these are very plow-boys that M. le Marquis 
 employs as guardsmen ! " 
 
 Still, plow-boys or not, they possessed sufficient 
 courage to enable them to stand for some minutes
 
 A SURPRISE AND A SWORDSMAN 2J 
 
 against the bewildering shower of blows that rained 
 on them from the rapiers of the duke and his gentle- 
 men. Guise, when he first arrived on the scene, had 
 attacked the nearest guardsman, a sturdy yokel, who 
 dropped his arquebus and prepared to receive the 
 onslaught sword in hand. The second thrust of the 
 duke's sword, however, ran the guardsman through 
 to the hilt. Meanwhile Besme had disabled his two, 
 and two others of Guise's men were finishing their 
 antagonists with ease. A fourth of the duke's men 
 was less fortunate, having received an ugly cut in the 
 cheek and a thrust in the shoulder that deprived him 
 of further use of his sword-arm. This left the con- 
 test evenly divided, with five men on each side, who 
 lost no time in choosing each an antagonist and in 
 fighting with enthusiasm. The new adversary of the 
 Due de Guise was the guardsman that had just dis- 
 abled one of the latter's men. The duke had experi- 
 enced so little difficulty in finishing his first opponent 
 that he was immeasurably surprised to find his second 
 adversary a swordsman of extraordinary skill. In- 
 deed, the duke, who had begun a sharp attack, in 
 a few moments found himself on the defensive and 
 wondering how soon his antagonist would tire him 
 and run him through. The latter, who was in 
 stature the duke's equal, and possessed of more 
 powerful shoulders and wrists, fenced with such calm 
 assurance and skill that the young man had cause to 
 be sensibly alarmed. Guise summoned his strength 
 for a decisive attack, however, hoping that in a 
 moment, should this man prove more than his equal, 
 some of the others would have finished their oppo-
 
 28 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 nents and would come to his assistance. He was 
 very disagreeably surprised a few seconds later, to 
 feel his sword wrenched from his grasp and to see 
 it whirl away some distance. Singularly enough, its 
 point lodged firmly in a neighboring tree-trunk, where 
 it vibrated for several seconds. Guise, whose physi- 
 cal activity was not less than that of his mind, in- 
 stantly wheeled his horse and galloped toward the 
 tree, his antagonist in hot- pursuit. The duke arrived 
 first, seized his sword, and, turning sharply, greeted 
 his rival with a bland smile. 
 
 " I am sorry, M. le Due," said the latter, in the 
 most courteous tone, " that you did not permit me 
 to present you your sword." 
 
 " I make it a point rarely to wait on ceremony 
 when fighting guardsmen," replied Guise, through 
 his teeth. The other nonchalantly shrugged his 
 shoulders, as they resumed the engagement. 
 
 To the present moment the duke's adversary had 
 remained more or less in the shadow, his features 
 concealed by the brim of a wide hat. Now they 
 had so changed position that the moonlight fell full 
 on the stranger's face, and Guise had an opportunity 
 to study its noble features, as their crossed swords 
 flashed and rang. It was the face of no plow-boy 
 that the young man saw, but that of a man of evident 
 breeding and gentility. The broad, open brow, over 
 which hung stray brown curls, was seconded in its 
 expression of honesty and intelligence by a deter- 
 mined chin, deep, penetrating gray eyes, and a rather 
 large nose, the delicate nostrils of which quivered 
 sensitively as the sparks flew from the ringing steel.
 
 A SURPRISE AND A SWORDSMAN 2$ 
 
 The hand that guided the darting rapier was no less 
 that of a gentleman than were the features of that 
 striking face. It was a white, blue-veined, slender 
 hand whose only labor, one could swear, had been 
 that of the swordsman. 
 
 That it was a skilful hand, Guise was well satisfied ; 
 there was scarcely a swordsman in the court of France 
 that could have whisked away the young duke's 
 rapier with such apparent ease. Moreover, the voice 
 and tone were those of a gentleman that had desired 
 merely to perform an ordinary act of courtesy and 
 that had been disappointed. 
 
 The stranger energetically engaged the duke, and 
 the combat continued as fierce as it had been in the 
 beginning. To Guise's mortal chagrin he again lost 
 his weapon, which was dexterously wrenched away 
 with the same evident ease. This time it fell on the 
 ground immediately behind the skilful stranger's 
 horse. Guise saw at once that there was no chance 
 of his recovering it for himself, and he folded his 
 arms and awaited calmly what a perverse fate might 
 have in store for him. It may be imagined with 
 what feelings of wonder and gratitude he received the 
 sword from his adversary, hilt first. The guardsman, 
 on twisting away the duke's weapon, had, with no 
 less skill, dismounted, recovered it, and presented it 
 to its astonished owner. 
 
 " With my compliments on your fencing, Mon- 
 sieur," said the more skilful swordsman, at once 
 remounting and preparing to resume the engagement. 
 
 Guise bit his lip. It was quite evident that this 
 man was only playing with him, that he was entirely
 
 30 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 at the mercy of the marquis's guardsman. Besides, 
 the stranger had just taught him a lesson in courtesy 
 such as his pride could ill bear. Seeing all his 
 followers still busily engaged, Guise, with a heavy 
 heart, set to his hopeless task again, and he was only 
 angered the more to find that now his adversary 
 fenced indifferently, although on the defensive, and 
 permitted him not the slightest advantage. 
 
 It was at this moment that the ring of approach- 
 ing hoofs was heard and, glancing hastily over his 
 shoulder, Guise perceived that a fresh body of the 
 marquis's guards were about to attack them. These 
 men had been stationed just without the principal 
 gate, in the hope of preventing the retreat of Guise 
 and his men should they attempt to escape by scaling 
 the wall. The sound of the conflict in the rear of 
 the chateau having reached them, they hastily un- 
 barred the gate, which they had fastened from the 
 outside, and rushed to the assistance of their com- 
 rades, just as Guise was engaging his expert adversary 
 for the third time. Divining that the gate must have 
 been left open behind them, Besme, who had found 
 his third man quite his equal, managed by retreating 
 slowly to draw up beside his master. 
 
 " Let us retire, fighting, to the gate," he whispered. 
 
 " Good ! " answered the duke, whose quick per- 
 ception saw the wisdom of this advice ; " tell the 
 others." 
 
 This Besme contrived to do in the same manner as 
 he had spoken to the duke, and immediately, having 
 by a clever manoeuvre placed themselves between the 
 re-enforced guard and the gate, Guise and his men,
 
 A SURPRISE AND A SWORDSMAN 31 
 
 still fighting valiantly, now one against two, backed 
 their horses, inch by inch, toward their sole hope of 
 escape. However, the distance was too great for 
 them to traverse at such odds, and by the time the 
 group of combatants were well in front of the chateau, 
 two of the duke's men were practically disabled, and 
 the remaining three, now exhausted, found themselves 
 hard pressed by ten, half of whom were fresh. 
 
 " It is useless," panted Besme ; " we may as well 
 yield." 
 
 " M. de Besme," replied the duke, haughtily, " the 
 Due de Guise never yields ! " 
 
 At these words the young man's antagonist dropped 
 his point, crying, " M. le Due, I cannot permit so 
 brave a gentleman to fight at so unfair an advantage.'' 
 
 Then, turning to his men, he singled out five of the 
 better swordsmen and commanded them to retire. 
 
 Scarcely had the swords resumed their play after 
 this brief interval when a window on a balcony above 
 opened, and an old man, clad only in a dressing- 
 gown and slippers, appeared. It was the Marquis 
 de Mezieres. His high voice rang out sharply above 
 the clashing of the steel. At his first words the 
 guardsmen withdrew from the fray, leaving the gentle- 
 men of the duke well-nigh exhausted, and astonished 
 at this sudden and timely interruption. 
 
 " M. de la Tour d'lvoire," said the old man, dryly, 
 " you may discontinue your fencing down there and 
 permit your adversaries to withdraw." 
 
 The marquis at once re-entered the house and 
 closed the window. The duke's recent antagonist, 
 who had just been addressed as La Tour d'lvoire,
 
 32 A PARFIT GEN TIL KNIGHT 
 
 turned to the young man and, removing his plumed 
 hat, bowed deferentially. 
 
 " Au revoir, Monsieur," he said, lightly, and, wheel- 
 ing his horse, rode off toward the quarters of the 
 guard, followed by the others. 
 
 The duke and his men, in utter amazement, glanced 
 from the retreating guardsmen to the balcony above. 
 Another figure had just appeared there. It was 
 Victoire de Mezieres. 
 
 " Laurels for the brave ! " she cried, laughingly, 
 and tossed down a nosegay, which Guise dexterously 
 caught and gallantly pressed to his lips. 
 
 "You are unharmed, are you, Monsieur?" asked 
 Victoire, with a note of anxiety in her voice. 
 
 " I am indeed so, thanks to your sweet services, 
 Mademoiselle," he replied. Then he added lightly, 
 " In proof of which I shall return with renewed 
 strength within the week." 
 
 With that he wheeled his horse and galloped off 
 down the avenue, followed by his exhausted men.
 
 Ill 
 
 A CAPITULATION AND A MESSAGE 
 
 TT will be remembered that, as the Due de Guise 
 * left the chamber of Victoire de Mezieres, the old 
 marquis was engaged in the noisy occupation of rain- 
 ing blows on the door of his daughter's room, and 
 that his shrill voice demanded his immediate ad- 
 mittance. As soon, therefore, as Guise had effected 
 his departure, Victoire hastily placed herself, dressed 
 as she was, beneath the covers of her great canopied 
 bed, drew the curtains around her, and called out 
 in a voice of well feigned surprise and sleepiness, 
 "Who is there?" 
 
 " I, your father ! " shouted the enraged marquis, 
 his voice ascending in a shrill crescendo ; " I demand 
 to be admitted at once." 
 
 " But, father, I have retired," expostulated Vic- 
 toire; "why must I be disturbed at this unseemly 
 hour? Is it possible you are not well? Open, 
 Anne, and keep a straight face, as you love me ! " 
 she whispered to the maid, who in the meantime had 
 donned a night-robe over her dress. 
 
 Antoinette cautiously unlocked the door, opened 
 it about half an inch, and peeped out. 
 
 " M. le Marquis," she said, with feigned timidity, 
 " I beg of you to permit me to retire behind the 
 
 3
 
 34 ^ PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 curtains before you enter. This unexpected honor 
 has found me in no seemly apparel for receiving 
 your lordship." 
 
 Then, closing the door with a bang, she burst into 
 such a fit of half-smothered laughter that Victoire 
 was compelled to leap out of bed to ascertain the 
 cause. 
 
 " I will not wait another second," came the shrill 
 voice from without ; Victoire and Antoinette sought 
 refuge beneath the bedclothes. 
 
 "Enter, Monsieur," commanded the former, in a 
 voice of injured dignity. 
 
 The marquis abruptly pushed open the door and 
 appeared, candle in hand, outlined against the black- 
 ness of the corridor. 
 
 "Now, where is the Due de Guise? " he demanded, 
 his voice piping in a tremolo of suppressed wrath. 
 
 The cause of Antoinette's hilarity now became 
 apparent. M. le Marquis de M6zieres may have 
 been a very majestic figure, arrayed in court cos- 
 tume, but attired in a dressing-gown, absurdly lack- 
 ing in length, and a night-cap, the tassel of which 
 bobbed exasperatingly before the wearer's thin face, 
 he was certainly an apparition to excite the risibili- 
 ties of a less humorous individual than Victoire's 
 maid. His thin shanks protruded fragilely below, 
 and his lantern-jaw moved convulsively up and down 
 on its hinge, alternately displaying and concealing 
 the toothless gums. The marquis was evidently 
 laboring under great excitement, for the veins in his 
 irregular forehead stood out in tense relief, throb- 
 bing furiously, and great beads of perspiration, the
 
 A CAPITULATION AND A MESSAGE 35 
 
 results of his recent violent exercise at the door, 
 rolled down his purple face. 
 
 On entering the chamber he waved his candle 
 grotesquely above his head and peered into the 
 shadows as if searching for any one they might 
 conceal. He repeated his demand concerning the 
 duke. 
 
 " I think, Monsieur," said Victoire, " that you must 
 be very ill to forget yourself thus. You know very 
 well that the Due de Guise is anywhere rather than 
 in your daughter's apartment." 
 
 The old man burst into a torrent of reproaches. 
 
 " I want none of your denials, jade," he cried ; " I 
 know well enough that the man is here or has been. 
 At any rate," he continued, in his irritating quaver, 
 smiling evilly, " wherever he is, the guard will make 
 short work with him." 
 
 "You have not called out the guard, have you, 
 father?" asked Victoire, her voice trembling with 
 apprehension aroused by that ominous smile. 
 
 " Surely, you fear nothing," he replied, wickedly, 
 " since M. de Guise should be anywhere rather than 
 here." 
 
 Victoire shuddered with fright. She knew her 
 father vindictive enough to stop at nothing in the 
 expression of his recently conceived hatred for the 
 Due de Guise and his house. 
 
 "Father," she faltered, "you are not going to 
 show violence to the duke, I trust. Think of the 
 consequences of such an act ! M. de Guise is the 
 greatest prince in France." 
 
 "Am I not in my own house?" cried the old man,
 
 36 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 with rage. " I will have you know the king is with 
 me against the Due de Guise and his evil doings. Is 
 your lover, then, a greater prince than he ? " The 
 word " lover " was accompanied by a most insin- 
 uating sneer. 
 
 " Monsieur," cried Victoire, with dignity, " remem- 
 ber that it is to a woman and your daughter that you 
 are speaking ! " 
 
 By this time the old man's face had changed with 
 rage from a deep purple to a livid pallor. 
 
 " Daughter or no," he fairly shrieked, " there shall 
 be no more mad pranks with harebrained young fops. 
 This prince of yours may look to his head before he 
 leaves this place ! " and he stalked angrily out of the 
 room. 
 
 Victoire could scarcely refrain from laughing at 
 this ludicrous retreat, regardless of the danger in 
 which she felt the Due de Guise was placed. She 
 reflected that the young man, though brave to reck- 
 lessness, would have but poor chances against the 
 superior numbers of her father's guard. With a 
 sudden resolution she jumped out of bed and ran 
 after the marquis. 
 
 " Father," she implored, seizing him by the hand, 
 " have mercy, I pray you ! M. de Guise has just 
 been here and he will be cut to pieces ! Call away 
 your guard and I will promise you anything ! " 
 
 The marquis wheeled about and roughly seized his 
 daughter by the shoulder. " Do you mean that, 
 wench?" he cried, scowling down at her in distrust. 
 
 " Anything, father," she answered, weakly. 
 
 " Very well," cried the old man, " swear to me that
 
 A CAPITULATION AND A MESSAGE 37 
 
 you will make no further objections to the marriage 
 that the king and I have arranged for you." The 
 arrogance of the emphasis on the word "king" was 
 unsurpassed. 
 
 " Father, anything but that ! " she implored. 
 
 The marquis turned and pattered off down the 
 corridor, his feet sliding about in his great list slippers, 
 which slapped the floor comically at every step. 
 
 " I swear ! " Victoire called after him, and he halted 
 with a grimace of satisfaction. 
 
 " It is time," he said, dryly. " The guard will be 
 withdrawn." 
 
 Victoire returned to her chamber, scarce knowing 
 whether to laugh or to cry. The promise to her 
 father was of little consequence, as the wedding with 
 the Prince de Montpensier had been decided on for 
 some days and her resistance could have only a 
 nominal effect. Her father's appearance had been 
 amusing enough to suggest the former alternative, 
 but she remembered that the duke was not yet out 
 of danger, and decided to do neither prematurely. 
 
 It was only then that the sound of fighting burst 
 on the women's ears, Guise and his gentlemen hav- 
 ing retreated some distance toward the gate. 
 
 Victoire thrust her head out of the window and, 
 seeing the evident peril that menaced her lover, she 
 ran for her father, who was re-approaching down the 
 corridor, and literally dragged the old man, puffing 
 and gasping for breath, into the chamber that opened 
 on the balcony. Seeing Guise still uninjured she 
 rushed back to her own apartment to reassure 
 Antoinette. There she noticed a nosegay that some
 
 38 A PARFIT GENTIL K AUGHT 
 
 admirer in her father's guard had sent her, and which, 
 on returning to the balcony, she tossed to the duke, 
 saying, " Laurels for the brave ! " 
 
 Guise's declaration that he would return within the 
 week, uttered as it was within the hearing of the 
 marquis, kept repeating itself in Victoire's mind. She 
 knew that the duke was a man whose word, no matter 
 how lightly given, was generally kept, especially 
 where foolhardy recklessness was concerned. What 
 if he really should attempt to return as he had 
 threatened ? 
 
 " Was M. de Besme unharmed ? " asked Antoinette, 
 when Victoire had told her of tossing the nosegay to 
 Guise. 
 
 " I am sure of it, Anne ; he rode away spiritedly 
 with M. de Guise. By the way, what were you two 
 conversing about so earnestly?" 
 
 "Whom do you imagine?" asked Antoinette. 
 " None other than the Prince de Montpensier." 
 
 " So you have been learning about my future hus- 
 band, have you? I will confess I have not had so 
 much curiosity. Well, what is he like?" 
 
 " M. le Prince, as far as I could learn from Besme, 
 is a man of slight attractions. He is neither tall nor 
 handsome, witty nor learned, gracious nor interesting. 
 For the remainder, he is brave enough, no mean 
 soldier, and is completely wrapped up in another 
 man " 
 
 " So much the better ! " interrupted Victoire, with 
 a sigh. " And who is this other man? " 
 
 " The Comte de Chabanes, a man of no estates 
 worth mentioning and who is at present in disfavor
 
 A CAPITULATION AND A MESSAGE 39 
 
 with the queen-mother, who believes him to be in 
 league with the Prince de Conde and the Amiral de 
 Coligny. It seems that the prince has been moving 
 heaven and earth at court to convince Catherine de 
 Medicis that the count is a strict Catholic. Besme 
 has heard it said that Chabanes is neither Catholic 
 nor Huguenot, but that he possesses peculiar religious 
 views of his own. At any rate his influence over the 
 prince, and the prince's influence at court are both 
 great, and it is almost certain that the count will 
 ultimately be reinstated in favor." 
 
 "Where is he now?" asked Victoire. 
 
 " A warrant having been issued for his arrest as a 
 Huguenot, he is now roaming the country in disguise ; 
 for he is of an adventurous turn of mind and a swords- 
 man of rare skill and fond of brave deeds. The 
 prince himself is ignorant of the count's where- 
 abouts." 
 
 "And what more of the prince? Has he no 
 adorers at court?" 
 
 " The prince is not a man well suited for gallantry, 
 and he bravely ignores the queen-mother's flying 
 squadron of beauties. Moreover, since his recent 
 quarrel with the Due de Guise " 
 
 " With the Due de Guise ! " 
 
 " del, yes ; did not M. de Guise tell you that he 
 had incurred the prince's deadly hatred by demand- 
 ing of the king, in your fiance's presence, that the 
 marriage with the Due du Maine be consummated as 
 had formerly been agreed ? " 
 
 " Mad boy ! " exclaimed Victoire, half to herself. 
 " He will end by making all the court his enemy.
 
 4O A PAR FIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 And perhaps there is a Providence in that," she 
 thought. " M. de Guise will hardly dare be too 
 attentive to Mme. de Montpensier, not, at least, 
 when her husband is his bitter enemy." 
 
 "What else did M. de Guise say when your father 
 called off the guard ? " asked Antoinette, after a short 
 silence. 
 
 " That he would return within the week. Anne, I 
 fear the duke's rashness. He would not hesitate to 
 fulfil that threat. He might bring a large force with 
 him and besiege the chateau. He is mad, I tell you, 
 and would stop at nothing." 
 
 " By all means, Mademoiselle, he must commit no 
 more rash deeds. You know he has already increased 
 the ill-will the Cardinal de Lorraine bears M. le 
 Marquis and all the Bourbons." 
 
 "Is there no way to get word to him before he 
 has an opportunity to put into action any of his wild 
 plans?" 
 
 " I know of none unless " 
 
 " Unless what, Anne ? " 
 
 " Unless you use your father's remarkable guards- 
 man as messenger. Do you know who sent you the 
 flowers that you tossed to M. de Guise?" 
 
 "You know I do not, Anne," said Victoire, 
 impatiently. 
 
 " It is the man your father has recently made cap- 
 tain of the guard, and a handsome fellow he is, to 
 my eye. And certain it is that he has conceived 
 a great admiration for you. Yesterday I saw him 
 stop at your door as the guard was changing the 
 watch, and when I arrived I found this nosegay which
 
 A CAPITULATION AND A MESSAGE 41 
 
 he had thrust into the room. He is far superior to 
 the yokels that compose the guard, and very modest, 
 for when M. le Marquis offered to obtain for him a 
 captaincy in the King's Guard, notwithstanding he 
 has been here but a few days, he politely declined, 
 saying that he was only a plain soldier, better fitted to 
 obey than to command. And he said it all with such 
 an air of unconscious superiority that M. de Mezieres 
 gave him a look of admiring wonder and hobbled off, 
 shaking his head and mumbling to himself." 
 
 " But whence did this man come? " 
 
 "No one knows; he is not at all communicative 
 with the other guardsmen, though they have all begun 
 to worship him. His manner is gentility itself, and 
 his courage and skill are said to be extraordinary." 
 
 "Very well, Anne, let us find this remarkable 
 guardsman; in the meantime I will write a note to 
 M. de Guise." 
 
 Antoinette at once arose and left the room, and 
 Victoire seated herself at a table and began to write 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 " M. de Guise, as he values them, will not endan- 
 ger his own life and the honor of one he professes to 
 love," she wrote. As Victoire folded the note she 
 heard footsteps approaching in the corridor. She 
 gave a coquettish glance at her image in the mirror 
 and turned with a satisfied smile as the door opened. 
 Antoinette entered, followed by a tall man in the 
 uniform of the marquis's guard. It was La Tour 
 d'lvoire, the skilful antagonist of the Due de Guise. 
 
 Victoire's first feeling on scrutinizing this man 
 was one of disappointment. Antoinette's descrip-
 
 42 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 tion had led her to expect some one unusually hand- 
 some, whereas the guardsman before her was, to her 
 mind, scarcely more than plain. It was true that 
 his eye was clear and expressive and seemed to 
 take in all things at a single glance, that his fore- 
 head was high and smooth, that his chin was square 
 and strong. Also, there was about him a general 
 air of frank intelligence and shrewdness combined 
 with the most courteous respect. Still, he was not 
 handsome. At least, he was a man that inspired 
 confidence; she felt that from the first. 
 
 The guardsman advanced into the chamber and 
 bowed with the grace and ease that belong only 
 to the highest birth and breeding. 
 
 " Mademoiselle has honored me by sending for 
 me," he said, in a low, pleasing voice ; " I am en- 
 tirely at her service." 
 
 " Monsieur," replied Victoire, " I have sent for a 
 guardsman to do me an errand ; I behold a gentle- 
 man." 
 
 " Mademoiselle, a guardsman permitted to do you 
 service becomes a gentleman." 
 
 Victoire blushed prettily but lost none of her self- 
 possession. " Monsieur, your fortune as a courtier 
 would be assured," she said ; " are you not ashamed 
 to practise your flatteries on an innocent country 
 maid ? " 
 
 "We guardsmen, Mademoiselle, are not much 
 given to flattery." 
 
 "True enough, Monsieur. But in regard to the 
 errand, I wish to send this note to Paris at once." 
 
 " I shall consider the favor of bearing it inesti-
 
 A CAPITULATION AND A MESSAGE 43 
 
 mable," said La Tour d'lvoire. " To whom am I to 
 deliver it?" 
 
 " To the Due de Guise. Do you know Paris? " 
 
 " Sufficiently, Mademoiselle. M. de Guise shall 
 have the message as soon as possible." 
 
 "Monsieur, it is important very important 
 that the duke should have this at once. I beg of 
 you to deliver it to none but himself. Notes are 
 sometimes lost, Monsieur " 
 
 " This one shall not be lost, Mademoiselle." 
 
 " If it be, it will be through no fault of yours, I am 
 satisfied, Monsieur." 
 
 La Tour d'lvoire bowed. 
 
 " Nevertheless," she continued, " it might happen 
 that you should arrive in Paris without the note. 
 Therefore, I beg of you, when you . have left us, 
 read the note, which is purposely left unsealed ; and 
 should any accident deprive you of it before you 
 arrive in Paris you can yourself repeat the contents 
 to M. de Guise." 
 
 The guardsman, having taken the note, turned as 
 though to go. From the door he cast a hesitating 
 look at Victoire, which she misconstrued. 
 
 " As to the money you will need, Monsieur " 
 
 He interrupted her with a gesture. " I beg you 
 not to give it a thought," he said, with a strong note 
 of almost haughty pride in his voice. "I am to-day 
 leaving the service of M. le Marquis ; as I shall not 
 return " 
 
 He hesitated and Victoire continued to misunder- 
 stand him. "Then you will accept nothing?" she 
 asked.
 
 44 * PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 The guardsman blushed furiously, but his self-con- 
 trol returned and, with an alluring smile, he said, 
 "Yes, Mademoiselle; the permission to kiss your 
 hand." 
 
 Victoire spontaneously extended her hand, and he 
 knelt and kissed it. Then he arose, bowed, and, 
 smiling, left the room. 
 
 " What a peculiar guardsman ! " exclaimed Vic- 
 toire, turning to her maid. " Why, Anne, dear, what 
 is the matter?" 
 
 Antoinette had thrown herself on the bed and was 
 weeping bitterly. " He is no guardsman, I am sure," 
 she sobbed. " I would give my life for a word from 
 him, and he will not even vouchsafe me a glance. It 
 is because I am only a maid and he is a nobleman ! " 
 
 " Come, my dear, dry those hysterical tears and let 
 us to bed. Noblemen are not in the habit of turning 
 guardsmen, these days."
 
 IV 
 
 A HUGUENOT AND A PRINCE 
 
 / T" V HE third day after his departure from Me^zieres, 
 toward six o'clock in the evening, the guards- 
 man that carried Victoire's message turned slowly 
 into the Rue du Chaume in Paris. He had accom- 
 plished the journey without incident, but his horse, a 
 magnificent coal-black charger, as well as himself, was 
 jaded. At length with a sigh of satisfaction he drew 
 rein before a large h6tel and dismounted. The Due 
 de Guise was just leaving the h6tel, which was his 
 own house, and he and the guardsman came face to 
 face at the gate. 
 
 " Diable / " said the duke, " my adversary of 
 Mezieres ! " and he courteously returned the latter's 
 polite bow. 
 
 " Pardon, M. le Due," said the guardsman, " I 
 have an important message for you." 
 
 " Monsieur," replied the duke, " is doubtless 
 fatigued. It is no easy journey that he has made. 
 I myself returned but an hour ago, and notwith- 
 standing, I am going to start back over that same 
 route to-night." 
 
 "Your pardon, again," said the messenger, "but I 
 think the word I carry will save you the fatigue of 
 that journey." He drew Victoire's note from his 
 doublet and presented it to the duke.
 
 46 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 Guise at once opened and read the tiny billet. 
 Then he turned petulantly to the guardsman and, 
 with a note of suspicion in his voice, demanded, 
 " Permit me to ask, Monsieur, how you may be aware 
 of this missive's contents." 
 
 " Mile, de Mezieres insisted on my reading the 
 note, so that, in case it should be lost, I could relate 
 its contents to yourself on my arrival in Paris. 
 Mademoiselle pressed me to do this because the 
 importance of the message coming to you at once 
 was supreme." 
 
 Guise was satisfied that the guardsman was speak- 
 ing the truth, and, turning to an attendant, he said, 
 " Tell M. de Besme that we will not ride to-night." 
 
 The attendant hastened away smiling broadly. He 
 was one of the men whom his master had detailed for 
 his proposed expedition to Mezieres. 
 
 " Permit me, Monsieur," continued Guise, address- 
 ing the guardsman, " to offer you my hospitality. 
 Your horse shall be cared for at once, and perhaps 
 you yourself may feel the want of refreshment." 
 
 The duke was evidently impressed with the guards- 
 man's quality, for he addressed him with the greatest 
 deference, a circumstance that was noted with surprise 
 by the gentlemen present. 
 
 " I thank you, Monsieur," replied La Tour d'lvoire, 
 whose disdain of the more respectful title, " Mon- 
 seigneur," was also a source of wonderment to Guise's 
 gentlemen, and a confirmation of the duke's belief 
 that this guardsman was more than he pretended to 
 be. " I am seeking a friend in Paris, and until I have 
 found him I will not rest. As for Nero, here," he
 
 A HUGUENOT AND A PRINCE 47 
 
 affectionately patted the glistening neck of his hand- 
 some horse, "I shall soon find him a comfortable 
 bed and an ample measure of oats." 
 
 " Perhaps I can aid you in your search," Guise 
 volunteered graciously. 
 
 " I am seeking the Prince de Montpensier." 
 
 " Then, Monsieur, you will find him at the Louvre, 
 whither I am bound; and I should be delighted to 
 have you accompany me." 
 
 " I thank you, Monsieur, for the honor your invi- 
 tation confers on me ; but I it is hardly meet that 
 the Due de Guise should go to court in company with 
 a simple soldier like myself." 
 
 " A very brave and skilful one, Monsieur," said the 
 duke. " Besides," he added, approaching the guards- 
 man so that he might not be overheard by the others, 
 " you are no * simple soldier ' ; do you think I do not 
 know a gentleman when I see one ? " 
 
 His words were accompanied by a look that ex- 
 pressed conviction. The guardsman laughed lightly, 
 but did not reply. 
 
 " M. le Due, let me beg of you to proceed without 
 me," he said, after a moment's hesitation. " My rea- 
 sons are good. And if you will instruct me as to how 
 I may gain entrance to the Louvre and find M. de 
 Montpensier, I shall be under still greater obligations." 
 
 " Speak my name to the sentry at the gate. I will 
 instruct him to admit you. Once inside you will have 
 no difficulty in finding M. de Montpensier, who is 
 well known. I should not advise you, though," the 
 duke added, laughingly, " to use my name as a con- 
 juring word with M. le Prince."
 
 48 A PARFIT GEN TIL KNIGHT 
 
 " In that case," returned the guardsman, quickly, 
 " it would seem that the prince and yourself are not 
 on amicable terms. Is my inference at fault ?" 
 
 " You have divined the state of affairs." 
 
 " M. de Guise," said La Tour d'lvoire, simply, " the 
 Prince de Montpensier is my friend. His enemies 
 must always be my own. It is therefore impossible 
 that I should accept your hospitality." 
 
 Guise colored with sudden anger, but quickly 
 regaining his self-control, he bowed graciously, say- 
 ing, " As you wish, Monsieur," and at once rode off 
 in the direction of the Louvre, followed by his half- 
 dozen gentlemen. 
 
 La Tour d'lvoire calmly mounted his horse, which 
 a lackey had been holding, and taking a direction 
 opposed to that in which the Due de Guise and his 
 gentlemen had just disappeared, he rode slowly along 
 the Rue du Chaume. After a few moments he 
 wheeled about and started in the direction of the 
 palace. As he again came opposite the H6tel de 
 Guise a white object lying in the street attracted his 
 preoccupied eye. On riding close to the object he 
 perceived that it was the note which he had delivered 
 to the duke and which the latter had evidently 
 dropped as he was leaving the h6tel. La Tour 
 d'lvoire at once dismounted and recovered the 
 billet, which he placed in his doublet as he re- 
 directed his horse toward the Louvre. 
 
 As he approached the palace he became aware 
 of an unusual commotion in the adjacent Rue des 
 FosseVSaint-Germain. An old man, bent and feeble, 
 had been surrounded by a mixed crowd of vagabonds
 
 A HUGUENOT AND A PRINCE 49 
 
 and botirgeotSy who were torturing their helpless vic- 
 tim with jeers and taunts. For some time these 
 insults had been borne with calm and dignified 
 silence, which only seemed to goad the tormentors 
 to increased efforts, when suddenly there appeared 
 on the scene a large, heavy-browed man, who added 
 greatly to the confusion by shouting with a strong 
 German accent, "Down with the heretic dog!" and 
 " Death to the Protestant ! " and inciting the others 
 to further indignities. " Trip the old Baptist ! " he 
 suggested to one, and to another, " Slap his heretic 
 jaws ! " The bourgeois^ artisans, and cut-purses that 
 composed this motley assemblage increased their 
 badgering, each new insult being greeted with shouts 
 of approval. Finally the German thrust himself 
 through the crowd and, confronting the victim, 
 deliberately spat in his face. A burst of brutal 
 laughter followed, as the old man recoiled, pale with 
 impotent anger, and the bully turned with a smile 
 of self-satisfaction and began to make his way back 
 through the admiring crowd, which opened to let him 
 pass. 
 
 At the same moment a man was rapidly making 
 his way through the crowd and toward the German, 
 from an opposite direction. Our guardsman, hav- 
 ing been attracted by the noise, had ridden up 
 to the group, arriving just in time to witness the 
 cowardly act of the German, whom he recognized 
 as the follower of the Due de Guise, Besme. A 
 moment had sufficed for him to dismount and to 
 press his way through the crowd till he came face 
 to face with the insulter of the old man. The Ger- 
 
 4
 
 jo A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 man felt a heavy hand on his collar as he recognized 
 the powerful swordsman who had so nearly finished 
 his master at Mezieres. At sight of the guards- 
 man's wrathful countenance and flashing eye, and 
 remembering with what extraordinary skill and en- 
 durance he had fought, Besme began to lose color. 
 
 " Unhand me, Monsieur," he stammered, con- 
 fusedly ; " by what right do you lay your hand on 
 an honest gentleman?" 
 
 " Gentleman, indeed ! " sneered the guardsman, his 
 voice full of righteous indignation ; " none but the 
 basest clown could be guilty of this dastardly trick." 
 
 " You will oblige me by releasing my collar, Mon- 
 sieur," protested Besme, with ill-assumed courage. 
 
 "And you will oblige me," was the retort, the 
 guardsman still retaining a firm grasp on the other's 
 doublet, " by immediately and humbly apologizing 
 to this old man that you have so grossly insulted." 
 
 " Monsieur, I " began the German, now red with 
 rage and almost choked by the guardsman's power- 
 ful grasp. But he was not allowed to expostulate 
 further. La Tour d'lvoire tightened his clutch on 
 the sputtering bully and proceeded, without further 
 ceremony, to drag him to the feet of the old man. 
 There he dropped him much as a boy drops a 
 scratching kitten that he has been carrying at arm's 
 length by the nape of the neck. Then standing over 
 him with a threatening air, he commanded him to 
 make a speedy and complete apology. 
 
 Besme, now thoroughly cowed, cast an appealing 
 glance at the group of spectators ; then, as none 
 seemed disposed to assist him, he discreetly, but
 
 A HUGUENOT AND A PRINCE 51 
 
 with ill enough grace, began muttering a confused 
 apology. 
 
 The guardsman, satisfied with these amends, re- 
 leased the German and strode away through the 
 crowd, which sullenly allowed him to pass. He did 
 not even wait to hear the thanks the old man was 
 offering him in a quavering voice, crying repeatedly, 
 " God's blessing on you for a Christian gentleman, 
 is the prayer of Maftre Jonreau ! " but mounted his 
 horse and rode off toward the Louvre. Scarcely 
 was he beyond hearing distance when Besme, whose 
 narrow eyes wore an ominous look, began upbraid- 
 ing the crowd in loud tones. 
 
 " Ye are no Catholics," he cried, " to allow a fellow- 
 Christian to be thus mistreated by a dog of a heretic ! 
 M. de Guise will have every varlet of you hanged 
 when he hears you have thus tolerated the brutality 
 of a Huguenot." 
 
 "How do you know he is a Huguenot?" de- 
 manded one of the bourgeois. 
 
 "Did he not defend yonder old hound?" retorted 
 Besme, pointing to the old man, who had been 
 allowed to hobble off down the street without 
 further hindrance. 
 
 "True enough," replied the questioner, thought- 
 fully. He had lost sight of the discussion's cause 
 in the excitement that followed the appearance of 
 the guardsman. Then, turning to the others, he 
 cried, " What have we been doing, friends, letting 
 a heretic thus abuse a Catholic? After him and 
 throw him into the river ! " 
 
 The uniform of the guard of the Marquis de Mezieres
 
 52 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 was not a costume to excite the respect of the rabble, 
 and these words reawakening their hatred for the 
 Huguenots, the crowd, feeling that here was a chance 
 for further argument, with one accord ran after the 
 guardsman's horse. 
 
 When they had gone a hundred paces, a dozen 
 men dropped behind. These quickly collected about 
 the German, who drew them into a neighboring pas- 
 sage and addressed them with many muttered curses. 
 
 " Perce-Bedaine," he said, sharply, to a short, bull- 
 necked, bandy-legged man of very evil countenance, 
 " do you remember that, a half-hour ago, I was 
 speaking of a swordsman that I had encountered the 
 other day at Mezieres?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Perce-Bedaine, sullenly. He spoke 
 with a decided Gascon accent. 
 
 "Very well, you have just witnessed the insult 
 which that same guardsman has offered me." 
 
 " We dared not interfere," growled a great lumber- 
 ing fellow with a bullet-shaped head and enormous 
 hands. In his voice also was betrayed a Gascon 
 birth. 
 
 " Doubtless, Casse-Trogne," replied Besme, dryly. 
 " However, it is not of that that I wish to speak, at 
 least, not for the present. I merely wish to announce 
 that I have sworn a solemn oath to be revenged on 
 this Huguenot guardsman." 
 
 The vagabonds growled their inarticulate approval, 
 and, casting on them a scowl of contempt, the German 
 strode quickly away, leaving the others to disperse in 
 every direction. 
 
 Shortly after, as Besme was about to enter the gate
 
 A HUGUENOT AND A PRINCE 53 
 
 at the H6tel de Guise he perceived one of the vaga- 
 bonds approaching rapidly. Besme saw the eager- 
 ness depicted on his minion's countenance, and 
 paused. 
 
 " Well, Maurevel," the German demanded ; " what 
 news ? " 
 
 " The Prince de Montpensier received him with 
 open arms," said Maurevel, in a hoarse whisper, " and 
 arm in arm they went off toward an inn near the 
 Louvre." 
 
 " M. de Montpensier ! " exclaimed Besme, incredu- 
 lously. Then, after a moment's reflection, he added, 
 half to himself: " So he is no guardsman, after all ! 
 Some one in disguise but who can he be ? Par le 
 sang de Diert, it is the exiled count ! " 
 
 At a sign from the German, Maurevel disappeared 
 down a side street. Besme turned into the H6tel de 
 Guise. 
 
 " Now to plan my revenge," he muttered to him- 
 self; " for it shall be a sweet one." 
 
 La Tour d'lvoire was near the entrance to the 
 Louvre when the crowd overtook him. He turned 
 in amazement at hearing them revile him as a 
 " Protestant dog ! " The crowd, however, did not 
 approach very near to this man that had just ex- 
 hibited his strength and courage in so striking a 
 manner. They contented themselves with making 
 such a hubbub that presently a squad of the palace 
 guards appeared, their captain demanding the cause 
 of so much noise. Receiving no definite response, 
 he addressed himself personally to the cavalier. 
 
 " Monsieur," he said, " if you are a Huguenot, as
 
 54 * PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 these people say, you will oblige me by at once mov- 
 ing on, for this confusion is very distasteful to us." 
 
 " Monsieur," replied the other, " as you are attached 
 to the palace, you will oblige me by at once sending 
 one of your men to M. le Prince de Montpensier and 
 . informing him that he is awaited at the gates." 
 
 At the sound of the prince's name the crowd only 
 hooted the louder. 
 
 " The Prince de Montpensier ! " they cried, de- 
 risively. " Do you think he would associate with a 
 heretic?" 
 
 The captain of the guard seemed to share their 
 opinion in this respect At any rate, he refused flatly 
 to carry any such message, and he repeated his re- 
 quest that the stranger leave the gate. The latter 
 dismounted and started with the evident intention of 
 gaining access to the palace in spite of populace and 
 guard. Seeing him advance with a determined air, 
 the captain commanded his men to resist him, and 
 went himself to meet him. 
 
 At this moment some gentlemen, attracted by the 
 commotion without, appeared at the gate. One of 
 them, catching sight of the guardsman, who was about 
 to be attacked by the captain, rushed forward and 
 seized the former in his arms. 
 
 " Raoul ! " he cried, tears of joy glistening in his 
 eyes, " I have found you at last ! " 
 
 The other, at the sight of this young man, be- 
 trayed an equal emotion. " I was beginning to fear, 
 Charles," he said, " that I should not find you before 
 these fellows here had made an end of me." 
 
 At the sight of this youth, who was the Prince de
 
 A HUGUENOT AND A PRINCE 55 
 
 Montpensier, showing such great familiarity with a 
 common soldier, the crowd and the guard quickly 
 changed their attitude toward the latter, and, after 
 gazing for a few moments in open-mouthed wonder, 
 began to slink away. The people felt that the prince 
 would harbor no heretic, and the soldiers saw that this 
 must be no ordinary guardsman. 
 
 The Prince de Montpensier, eldest son of the Due 
 de Montpensier, a scion of the house of Bourbon, was 
 a young man of average stature and unusual strength, 
 and pronouncedly brunet. His eyes were black and 
 piercing, though nervous and changeable, and his 
 crisp hair was cut short over a low forehead. He 
 had thin, sensitive lips, and a chin the sharpness 
 of which was accentuated by a short, pointed beard. 
 He had just entered on his military career and gave 
 great promise of becoming a brilliant soldier and 
 leader. Indeed, his acquaintances remarked, he was 
 fortunate in his martial accomplishments, for he had 
 few others, being blunt and plain of speech, often 
 irascible, and sensitive to extreme diffidence. He 
 was distrustful of all men save this friend whom he had 
 just greeted so cordially, and in whom, as is often the 
 case with men of such temperaments, he had some 
 time since placed his entire confidence. 
 
 Doubtless it is safe to assume that the reader has 
 divined the identity of this guardsman with whom 
 Montpensier conversed in such eager tones. The 
 man that had so skilfully fenced with the Due de 
 Guise at Mezieres, that had been the messenger of 
 Victoire, and that had just rescued the old Huguenot 
 from the persecutions of the German, was he of whom
 
 56 A PAR FIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 Besme had spoken to Antoinette as the soldier of for- 
 tune and dearest friend of Montpensier, Raoul de 
 la Tour d'lvoire, Comte de Chabanes. 
 
 The count briefly related to Montpensier his re- 
 cent adventures : how, forced to flee from Paris by an 
 order given by Catherine de Medicis for his arrest, he 
 had at last taken service in the guard of the Marquis 
 de Mezieres, had recently fought hand to hand with 
 the Due de Guise, and had, in desperation, decided 
 to seek his friend in Paris. 
 
 When Chabanes had finished the prince asked, 
 "And what of Mile, de Mezieres; have you not 
 seen her?" 
 
 Chabanes colored slightly.. 
 
 " I have had that honor on one or two occasions. 
 It was to bring a message of hers that I came to 
 Paris. Do you know her?" 
 
 "Know her?" echoed the prince; "she is to be 
 married to me on Thursday ! " 
 
 " Married ! " exclaimed the count, changing from 
 red to a deathly white ; then, recovering himself, he 
 continued with a forced laugh, "You see how igno- 
 rant of events one becomes during these constrained 
 absences." 
 
 " And what grieves me most," the prince went on, 
 not noting the count's momentary confusion, " is that 
 you, my dear friend, may not be present at the wed- 
 ding. It is true that a few days ago the queen-mother 
 listened to my pleadings on your behalf and promised 
 to soon revoke the order for your arrest. Neverthe- 
 less I fear it will be impossible for you to appear 
 at court for some months yet, when all suspicion of
 
 A HUGUENOT AND A PRINCE 57 
 
 your being of the Reformed religion will have dis- 
 appeared. Sentiment is high against the Huguenots 
 and all those concerning whom there has been the 
 slightest suspicion of sympathy with that sect." 
 
 " Is *iot the Prince de Conde still at court and in 
 favor?" asked the count. 
 
 " He is at court, but not in favor, although as yet 
 he has allowed himself to be cajoled by the crafty 
 Florentine into believing that she is about to create 
 him lieutenant-general of the kingdom. Gaspard de 
 Tavannes is at present organizing a secret society 
 called 'The Brotherhood of the Holy Spirit,' the 
 avowed purpose of which is to crush the Reformed 
 church out of France. It is the talk of the court 
 that the king has just ordered the immediate levy 
 of six thousand Swiss and that an army-corps is to 
 be formed on the frontiers of Champagne. You 
 know, my dear Raoul," continued the prince, affec- 
 tionately, " that means but one thing : that the war 
 will break out afresh before the summer wanes. And 
 I have no intention of allowing you to remain in the 
 midst of the dangers to which, here in Paris, you 
 would be exposed." 
 
 "Then, Charles, I suppose I must return home, 
 and allow sword and spirit to rust another twelve- 
 month." 
 
 The count sighed deeply. 
 
 "No," said the prince; "you must not do that. 
 I am about to take to Champigny a young and, as 
 I have been given to understand, a beautiful wife. 
 If the war recommences shortly, as I am positive it 
 will, I shall be forced to leave her, as the king's
 
 58 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 service will call me to the field. Raoul, I want you 
 to go to Champigny as soon as you can, prepare 
 the chateau for the reception of the bride, and make 
 it your home until such time as we shall both deem 
 fit for your return to court." t 
 
 Chabanes warmly grasped the prince's proffered 
 hand. This new proof of confidence and esteem, 
 as well as affection, touched him deeply and he 
 renewed a mental vow, made long before, that never 
 should the confidence be betrayed, the esteem mis- 
 placed, or the affection undervalued. 
 
 " Charles," exclaimed the count, " your friendship 
 drives me to shame in the knowledge that I shall 
 never be able to deserve it ! " 
 
 " You have already deserved more than I can ever 
 offer you," replied the prince, with simple sincerity. 
 " And now," he continued, " when will you start for 
 Champigny? It is fortunate that you are arrayed in 
 the uniform of M. de Mezieres ; it is a complete dis- 
 guise." 
 
 " To-morrow, if you think best, Charles," said the 
 count, in reply to the question. 
 
 " Good," replied the prince. " And now, as I 
 know you must be fatigued and hungered, suppose 
 we seek refreshment in a near-by inn. I know an 
 excellent one, not two minutes' walk from here, 
 where our presence will not excite comment." 
 
 And, arm in arm, the two young men went off 
 down the street, followed by one of the prince's 
 lackeys, who led Chabanes' handsome horse.
 
 A CARDINAL AND AN AMBITION 
 
 THE Due de Guise, on leaving the Comte de 
 Chabanes in front of the h6tel in the Rue du 
 Chaume, repaired immediately to the Louvre, where 
 his uncle, the Cardinal de Lorraine, awaited him. He 
 found the cardinal seated at a table in a small cham- 
 ber in the apartments of the queen-mother. As the 
 youthful head of the house of Guise entered, his uncle 
 arose, bowed stiffly, and reseated himself. The duke 
 haughtily followed this example. 
 
 " Monsieur," he said, in a tone of pride, " I was not 
 over-sure that I could be here this evening, or at 
 least, that I could remain longer than a few moments. 
 Unexpected circumstances, however, have altered my 
 plans, and I am happy to announce to you that I am 
 entirely at your service." 
 
 The Cardinal de Lorraine did not reply for several 
 moments. He was at this period forty-two years of 
 age, and he had lost none of that grace, beauty, wit, 
 and affability that had marked him as a cavalier of 
 much magnificence and charm, when, nineteen years 
 before, he appeared in Rome, a dashing young gentle- 
 man just entering on a marvellous career. Now 
 there were many in France that considered him the 
 true king of the realm, and indeed the influence he
 
 6O A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 exercised over the queen-mother, under whose power- 
 ful sway the weakling Charles IX. ruled, had in great 
 measure justified this opinion. The cardinal gazed 
 steadily but kindly at his nephew, who unflinchingly 
 bore the searching glance of the cold gray eyes. 
 
 " Henri," he said, impressively, " the hour is near 
 at hand that is to test the courage, ambition, and 
 strength of the son of your illustrious father. Already 
 M. d'Aumale and myself have been gratified by the 
 excellent reports of your bravery that preceded your 
 return from Hungary and the Turkish wars. As 
 you doubtless have known, France is approaching a 
 crisis, internal and grave, on the nature of which I 
 need not dwell. Suffice it to say that before six 
 months have passed you will be at the head of an 
 army and in a position that we know you to covet 
 above all things, in which you will find the oppor- 
 tunity of avenging the cowardly assassination of your 
 father." 
 
 " Monsieur," interrupted Guise, eagerly, " I beg 
 you to explain more fully. I confess that of late I 
 have too much neglected affairs at court to be fully 
 cognizant of all that is occurring. Proceed, Monsieur, 
 I am all attention." 
 
 The Cardinal continued, with a smile of satis- 
 faction. 
 
 "This morning the Prince de Conde, in some 
 manner aroused from the trustful sleep into which 
 the queen-mother has so skilfully lulled him, in the 
 presence of the Due d'Anjou, demanded of Catherine 
 de M6dicis the post as lieutenant-general of the king- 
 dom, which she promised him at the conclusion of
 
 A CARDINAL AND AN AMBITION 6 1 
 
 the recent peace of Amboise. The queen-mother, 
 startled at this sudden demand, to which M. de Conde 
 added a request for the sword of constable, which 
 Montmorency seems disposed to resign, returned no 
 direct answer; but the Due d'Anjou so haughtily 
 repudiated the idea, that there was no longer room 
 for doubt in the prince's mind as to the feeling of 
 the royal family in regard to him. He then asked an 
 explanation of the recent increase in the soldiery, say- 
 ing, ' There is no longer any question of war with 
 Spain, or of the mobilization of an army; what, 
 pray, will you do with the Swiss you are raising?' 
 To this Monsieur replied, significantly, ' We shall find 
 good employment for them ! ' ' 
 
 The cardinal paused for a moment and sat idly 
 drumming on the table with his fingers. Guise waited 
 patiently for him to continue, but as his uncle 
 remained silent, he again begged him to proceed. In 
 this news the young man foresaw an opportunity for 
 the vengeance that he so eagerly desired. The ever- 
 present memory of the fateful evening some years 
 before, when he had witnessed the murder of his 
 father, who, after gaining the famous victory of Dreux, 
 had been struck down by an assassin's bullet, rose 
 before him with all the horror and vividness with 
 which the crime had impressed the sensitive lad. 
 The solemn oath he had sworn at his father's death- 
 bed to be avenged on the instigators of this dastardly 
 crime was recalled. Perhaps the long-awaited oppor- 
 tunity had come ! 
 
 "Then what did the Prince de Conde say, Mon- 
 sieur?" he asked, not without excitement.
 
 62 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 " Nothing," replied the cardinal. " He turned on 
 his heel and left the royal presence and, a few hours 
 later, the court. He is now with the others of 
 his party, Coligny, Andelot, Rochefoucauld, and 
 La Noue." 
 
 " Then another war with the Huguenots is im- 
 minent?" 
 
 " Exactly," replied the cardinal, dryly ; " and you 
 are to have an opportunity of forgetting your recent 
 reconciliation with the admiral." 
 
 Guise could not restrain an exultant exclamation, 
 so intense was his hatred for the Amiral de Coligny, 
 whom he firmly believed to be the instigator of Pol- 
 trot de Mere", his father's assassin. Poltrot under 
 torture had accused the admiral, and notwithstanding 
 the latter's repeated denials of complicity in the plot, 
 neither Guise nor the cardinal had for a moment 
 doubted his guilt. 
 
 "And now," said the cardinal, after a brief silence, 
 " there is one other thing of which I wished to speak. 
 I trust that by this time you have recovered from 
 your foolish infatuation for Mile, de Me"zieres." 
 
 The duke flushed a deep crimson. His uncle, 
 noting this fact, continued in a gentler tone : 
 
 " Your exalted ambition in most things has been a 
 constant source of gratification to me. Often, as I 
 have listened to you unfolding the practical and lofty 
 aspirations with which you seem to be constantly 
 occupied, I have reflected on the approval and pleas- 
 ure with which your father would have received 
 them." 
 
 The cardinal paused to note the effect of his words
 
 A CARDINAL AND AN AMBITION 63 
 
 on his nephew. The young man, with downcast eyes, 
 listened silently but attentively. 
 
 " I have felt that your duty as a son of the house 
 of Guise ever lay plainly before you, and that Henri, 
 Due de Guise, would never fail to further to the best 
 of his ability the plans of Frangois, Due de Guise. 
 And so I must confess to a feeling of disappointment 
 when, a few days ago, you so passionately insisted 
 on an alliance with Mile, de Mezieres." 
 
 Guise was about to interrupt, but the cardinal re- 
 strained him with a gesture. 
 
 " Yes, I know that her fortune is great, and that 
 a marriage with her, such as was formerly contem- 
 plated for your brother, the Due du Maine, would 
 not be without advantage. Nevertheless, there are 
 higher alliances for one of your station, alliances 
 that. bring with them more than money, that bring 
 increased power and lay the road to even more 
 exalted rank." 
 
 As he said these last words the cardinal leaned 
 across the table and met the uplifted eyes of his 
 nephew with a look of such significance that the 
 latter was unable to doubt his uncle's full meaning. 
 Guise recalled the words of Victoire, and the dreams 
 to which they had given rise as he had ridden 
 toward Paris a few days before. In an instant the 
 audacity of the ambition possessed him, his face 
 flushed, and he began to breathe more rapidly. The 
 strange light that came into his eyes evidenced the 
 boundlessness of his aspirations, and boded no good 
 to those that should attempt to thwart the,m. 
 
 " Do you mean Mad "
 
 64 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 "Yes," replied the cardinal, in a whisper; "take 
 care lest we be overheard." 
 
 Guise arose and began pacing the room. His 
 manner betrayed great agitation, and it was evident 
 from the workings of his facial muscles that a violent 
 conflict was taking place within his mind. The car- 
 dinal, his face half-hidden in his hand, watched him 
 with a smile of satisfaction. Presently the young 
 man approached, and with his mouth quite close to 
 his uncle's ear, whispered two words, glancing fur- 
 tively about the chamber as he did so. 
 
 "And king?" he said. 
 
 " Yes," said the cardinal. 
 
 He had hardly uttered the word when the door 
 was flung open and a valet appeared on the threshold. 
 
 " His Majesty the king, and her Majesty the 
 queen-mother await M. le Cardinal de Lorraine," 
 the man announced. 
 
 For some minutes Guise walked the floor, already, 
 in fancy, outlining the plan whereby he was to attain 
 the throne of France. " Provided my uncles, the 
 cardinal and the Due d'Aumale, retain their present 
 prestige, I shall soon be in a position to be more 
 powerful than the king. A marriage with Margue- 
 rite de Valois can be consummated without difficulty; 
 I can then proceed to dispossess Catherine de Me"dicis 
 of the last vestiges of power; I will easily find a 
 means of ridding myself of the Dues d'Anjou and 
 d'Alengon; and then it will be the simplest matter 
 in the world for the grandson of Louis XII. to ac- 
 quire the throne of this weakling, Charles IX." 
 
 At length his mind reverted to Victoire de
 
 A CARDINAL AND AN AMBITION 65 
 
 Me"zieres. The thought of her approaching mar- 
 riage with the Prince de Montpensier was far from 
 agreeable to him. 
 
 " I shall win her yet," he said, stubbornly. " I 
 could take her now, but it would mean death to the 
 plans of my uncle, and the loss of a throne that is 
 already within my grasp. It is maddening to think 
 of her being sacrificed to that beast of a Bourbon, 
 Montpensier. She is the most beautiful woman in 
 France and the only good one, and she is to be 
 given to a melancholy dolt whose narrow life is 
 bounded by soldiery and battlefields. I will wager 
 he guards her as would an hundred-headed dragon ! 
 I could warn him to keep her out of my path, how- 
 ever. And now to devise a means of disposing of 
 Monsieur," he added, with a sigh that expressed his 
 resignation to a life of ambition. " Shall we send 
 our foppish Anjou to be the consort of the stern old 
 hag that guards the throne of England, or buy him 
 a principality in the Americas? I will warrant the 
 king is even now troubled with the same question." 
 
 And the Due de Guise went slowly home filled 
 with dark thoughts and stern ambitions.
 
 VI 
 
 A LADY AND A LOVER 
 
 ON a bleak January night, a year and a half later 
 than the time of the events described in the 
 previous chapters, a man and a woman sat silent, 
 before a great smouldering fire in the vast hall of an 
 old chateau. The wind howled dismally without, 
 occasional gusts sweeping down the wide chimney, 
 scattering the ashes, beating down the thin ascending 
 curl of smoke, and fanning the blackening logs into a 
 dull glow. This, and here and there the rattling of a 
 loose casement alone disturbed the silence. The two 
 motionless figures were wrapped in sombre gloom. 
 An hour before, the ruddy fire-light had illumined 
 that end of the hall and cast their shadows into bold 
 and distorted relief on either tapestried wall. Now 
 the shadows had gradually grown until they filled the 
 room, slowly smothering the dying, feeble tongues 
 of flame that clung tenaciously to the great half- 
 consumed logs whose ends rested on the fantastic 
 brass andirons. 
 
 Presently the man noiselessly arose and began to 
 stir the almost extinguished fire with a long iron rod. 
 As he did so a bright blaze burst from beneath the 
 ashes, like a resurrected spirit from its grave, and 
 threw the man's features into relief. It was the
 
 A LADY AND A LOVER 6/ 
 
 guardsman of Mezieres, the friend of the Prince de 
 Montpensier, Raoul de la Tour d'lvoire, Comte de 
 Chabanes. 
 
 Presently he returned to his seat, having succeeded 
 in partially arousing the slumbering fire. With head 
 bowed on his hand and a sad, melancholy look in his 
 eyes, he remained gazing into the writhing, flickering 
 blaze. 
 
 Presently the woman's low, soft voice aroused him 
 from his reverie. 
 
 " Raoul," she said, " of what are you thinking?" 
 
 He raised his eyes slowly and let them rest for a 
 moment on her face. 
 
 " Of you, Victoire," he said. 
 
 He did not look away at once. Indeed there were 
 few men whose glance fell on the Princesse de Mont- 
 pensier that looked away from her at once. The 
 short time had wrought a considerable change in 
 her. The pretty, slender girl of sixteen, whom we 
 have known before as Victoire de Mezieres, had 
 blossomed into a gloriously beautiful woman, whose 
 ripened charms were scarcely to be equalled in all 
 France. Chabanes could not help blessing the blaze 
 that revealed her to him in all her queenly, stately, 
 and above all, womanly loveliness. His glance rested 
 fondly on her beautiful lineaments, his very familiar- 
 ity with which seemed to increase their value and 
 charm. Her hair, rich, abundant, and brilliantly 
 black, rippled back in waves from a brow of match- 
 less purity and whiteness. He knew that that hair, 
 unconfined, trailed almost to her feet, for once she 
 had na'fvely let it down for him. Her eyes were
 
 68 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 large, limpid, and of the deepest blue, and from them 
 shone the light of a strong, feminine personality, 
 of spiritual tenderness and intellect. The Venus de' 
 Medici herself could boast of no more perfectly 
 chiselled features, and, surely, in all the world there 
 was not such another mouth, of such redness, and 
 beauty, and sweetness ! To-night she had thrown 
 aside her great frilled ruff, and the fire-light shone 
 red on the gleaming whiteness of her throat Cha- 
 banes knew that this fair throat was delicately veined 
 with tiny branching lines of blue. He sighed slightly, 
 and glanced back at the fire. 
 
 " Raoul," said the princess, " what news is there 
 to-day from the war ? " 
 
 The count moved uneasily. He had learned to 
 know that this question meant, " How fares M. de 
 Guise?" 
 
 " There was a massacre of Huguenots at Auxerre a 
 few days ago. An hundred and twenty were slain." 
 
 " But what of M. de Montpensier and and the 
 others?" 
 
 "Your husband, Charles, and the Dues de Guise 
 and d'Anjou, together with many others of the court, 
 remain in Paris. There is rumor that the court will 
 go to Blois, and that active operations against the 
 Protestants will be at once undertaken. In that case 
 Charles and Guise will shortly take the field." 
 
 For a few moments there was silence. Then 
 Victoire spoke hesitatingly. 
 
 " Raoul, how does Charles agree with M. de Guise ? 
 Surely they are thrown together much." 
 
 " I have heard that they never speak. Charles has
 
 A LADY AND A LOVER 69 
 
 not spoken to me of their coldness, and I know of it 
 only from what you have told me." 
 
 " Do you never ask questions, then, Raoul?" 
 
 " Often. How else could I keep you informed 
 about the war?" 
 
 " But I mean from personal curiosity. Were you 
 never sufficiently interested in the prince's difficulty 
 to inquire its cause?" 
 
 " I am never interested sufficiently in the private 
 affairs of others to inquire into them. My interest 
 begins when they are freely and voluntarily com- 
 municated to me." 
 
 " What a strange man you are, Raoul ! " 
 
 The count did not reply. During the eighteen 
 months that he and the princess had been the sole 
 residents of the chateau at Champigny, there had 
 sprung up such an intimacy between them as might 
 have been engendered between brother and sister, 
 born and reared together. The conventional forms 
 of conversation had long since been discarded, so 
 the princess saw no rudeness in his continued silence. 
 Indeed she had come to know him so well that she 
 felt that much was communicated between them 
 without the agency of words. 
 
 At an early age Chabanes had been left an orphan 
 with a small patrimony that barely sufficed to main- 
 tain an insignificant estate. His youth had been 
 beset by many vicissitudes and trials, through which 
 a rugged strength of character alone enabled him 
 triumphantly to pass. When he at length went to 
 Paris, a wandering soldier of fortune and a knight- 
 errant, he had time to form only a few friendships,
 
 7<D A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 chief of which was that for the Prince de Mont- 
 pensier, a man several years his junior, when the 
 fierce hatred for the Huguenots burst forth and the 
 count, suspected of sympathy with the Protestants, 
 was forced to fly to avoid imprisonment. 
 
 Montpensier, unfavored by Nature, diffident and 
 sensitive almost to morbidness, yet withal a man of 
 courage, strength, and capabilities, was quick to see 
 in the undemonstrative though sympathetic count 
 a man of marked nobility, principle, and chivalry. 
 On the other hand Chabanes easily penetrated the 
 prince's mask of diffidence, saw the true worth that 
 underlay it, and with perfect frankness reciprocated 
 the affection that Montpensier hesitatingly extended. 
 
 When Chabanes learned from his friend that the 
 latter was about to marry the woman with whom 
 lately circumstances, singularly enough, had thrown 
 the count, he became possessed by a vague fore- 
 boding of evil. The temperament of Montpensier 
 was not of a sort to attract the beautiful and child- 
 ish girl he was to marry, and the count coflld not 
 but foresee that the union would be unsatisfactory 
 to both husband and wife. When Chabanes, in 
 accordance with his friend's request, welcomed the 
 fair bride to gloomy, lonely Champigny, his heart 
 was filled with sympathy for this spirited, ardent 
 young woman that was to share his exile and to 
 depend on him for such friendship as would make 
 her imprisonment endurable. 
 
 Tire wonder of the Princesse de Montpensier was 
 without bounds when she found that her husband's 
 dearest friend, the man with whom she was destined
 
 A LADY AND A LOVER Jl 
 
 to pass so many months, was the guardsman that 
 had but a few weeks before acted as her messenger 
 to Paris and M. de Guise. For a time it constituted 
 a barrier to the progress of their friendship, placing 
 on both an irresistible, though doubtless reasonless 
 restraint ; but in time it became the means of further- 
 ing their acquaintance, which rapidly ripened into the 
 deepest of friendships. 
 
 Nor was this unusual, since Chabanes offered Vic- 
 toire those things that she most needed, sympathy 
 and sincere admiration. If not in the former, at least 
 in the latter, the princess reciprocated; the calm, 
 unselfish dignity and solicitous chivalry of Chabanes, 
 as well as the ever evident' nobility that was the basis 
 of his entire character, could not but have provoked 
 the profoundest admiration in the breast of one less 
 appreciative of such qualities than Victoire de Mont- 
 pensier. Chabanes' quick intuition divined the need 
 of the princess for the most intense sympathetic 
 interest, and in sorrow he was forced to admit that 
 there was slight possibility that her husband could 
 ever supply this want When the demand naturally 
 fell upon him, he therefore endeavored to meet its 
 requirements. In the end he became the confidant 
 of the wife, as well as of the husband. Her previous 
 inclination for the young Due de Guise, although it 
 filled Chabanes with indefinite alarm, knowing as he 
 did the unscrupulous character of the duke, only 
 served to verify his conviction that the yearning 
 vague, indeterminate, and unrealized of the woman's 
 intense nature for perfect sympathy was insatiate. 
 She implicitly confided to him the affection that she
 
 72 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 had formerly cherished for Guise, assuring him in 
 all sincerity that the last vestige of it, other than a 
 profound admiration for what had seemed to her the 
 young man's nobility of character, had long since 
 been blotted out and absorbed in her resolution to 
 assume determinedly the duties of her new life. 
 
 The advice of Chabanes was the truest, for, having 
 every desire to be in all things faithful to his friend, 
 he constantly counselled her to exert all her strength 
 to realize her highest ideal of domestic duty. Natu- 
 rally and spontaneously she soon told him of the 
 impression her stranger-husband had produced on 
 her, that of an unattractive and essentially un- 
 uxorious soldier, roughly kind and evidently desirous 
 of pleasing. She was dissatisfied because she could 
 not regard the prince as she felt a wife should regard 
 her husband. Chabanes held out to her the hope 
 that time and endeavor would bring them closer 
 together. She could not feel great regret when, some 
 weeks after their marriage, the political situation 
 called her husband to court to remain many months. 
 Chabanes painted the prince's estimable qualities in 
 vivid colors and tried to foresee a greater appreciation 
 of them on her part. The prince loved his friend 
 more than he loved his wife, she felt. The count 
 pointed out to her the impossibility of conflict be- 
 tween the two affections in the heart of Montpensier, 
 as well as the necessity to his happiness of both. 
 She could not help feeling that her husband was 
 happier at court or in camp than he could ever be 
 alone with her. Chabanes endeavored to correct the 
 probably false impression.
 
 A LADY AND A LOVER 73 
 
 Thus their lives progressed smoothly toward an 
 inevitable situation, a situation that had its seed in 
 that first interview at Mezieres. Chabanes, whose 
 sympathetic heart went out to the beautiful, innocent, 
 sympathy-needing woman, perceived that his feeling 
 toward her was gradually growing, changing, intensify- 
 ing, until one day he found himself hopelessly and des- 
 perately in love. And then awoke his conscience, de- 
 vising for him an hundred tortures with the inordinate 
 ingenuity of the conscience of the highest chivalry. 
 
 Chabanes attempted to make light of his passion ; 
 it became the more intense and living. He dared not 
 deny that the charm the princess, as Victoire de 
 Mezieres, had exercised over him was always increas- 
 ing in power. He saw with boundless joy that she 
 was measurably happy in their narrow life, that she 
 suffered little from nostalgia, and, indeed, she had 
 slight cause, considering the uneventfulness and dis- 
 satisfactoriness of her former life and that he 
 had achieved a not inconsiderable place in her life. 
 When she went to him with every little care, almost 
 as a child would seek its mother to pour out the 
 troubles, imaginary and real, of a sensitive and fanci- 
 ful nature, his heart filled to overflowing with an 
 inexpressible joy and pride. 
 
 However, many a heart-rending conflict took place 
 in his soul, so that he witnessed with ever-increas- 
 ing despair the augmentation of a passion that from 
 the first threatened to control him. In the begin- 
 ning he had resolved to tear his heart out rather 
 than to betray his love to Victoire. When, con- 
 science-stricken, he had contemplated leaving her
 
 74 ^ PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 forever, regardless of his promise to the prince that 
 he would remain with her at Champigny, confidence 
 in his hitherto unfailing strength, increased by the 
 unqualified recognition of the fact that Victoire 
 regarded him only as a friend, made him feel safe in 
 maintaining his position with regard to herself and 
 her husband. He shuddered at the thought of what 
 might happen were the princess to be left alone to 
 the mercies of the prince, how both would inevi- 
 tably suffer. He realized the good influence Fate 
 had enabled him to exert over the lives of both 
 husband and wife, and he was satisfied that his love, 
 if never expressed, would result in no harm. He 
 resolved to divert it to the purpose of ameliorating 
 in every way the domestic relations of Montpensier 
 and Victoire. 
 
 Now, as he sat sorrowfully gazing into the fire, 
 Chabanes maintained with all his strength that inward 
 struggle that continually possessed him. He could 
 not look at her, or hear her voice, or even be aware 
 of her presence without experiencing an almost 
 imperative impulse to go to her side, take her hand 
 in his, and tell her of the passion that burned in his 
 breast, of the love that had absorbed all the interests 
 of his life. 
 
 " How is the war going to terminate after all, 
 Raoul ? " asked Victoire, suddenly. 
 
 " I wish I could tell you that," was the reply ; " I 
 fear very badly." 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
 " Badly for the Huguenots. They are brave men 
 and will fight to the last, but they are at a great dis-
 
 A LADY AND A LOVER 75 
 
 advantage. The Amiral de Coligny is a better soldier 
 than Gaspard de Tavannes and as cunning as the 
 Cardinal de Lorraine, but he is less unscrupulous 
 than either. The Protestants place too much faith 
 in the king's word. They do not realize that it is 
 wrung from him by the most treacherous of the 
 Catholics." 
 
 " If I did not know your natural sympathy for the 
 undermost in any fight, Raoul, I should accuse you 
 of being a heretic. Sometimes I think you are one 
 in a way ; you are dreadfully irregular about going to 
 Mass." 
 
 The count smiled faintly but ventured no reply. 
 
 " Raoul," Victoire said, after a moment's pause, 
 " do you think that the Due de Guise will acquit him- 
 self as splendidly in this war as he did in the last 
 one?" 
 
 The count winced as though he had received a 
 stroke from a lash. He had for long been unable to 
 conceal from himself the fact that he was intensely 
 jealous of the Due de Guise. The knowledge that 
 Guise often occupied Victoire's thoughts stung him 
 terribly; he had always distrusted Guise, whom he 
 had from the first recognized as one of the worst 
 among many that were bad, and he wished that the 
 princess might have long since forgotten her girlhood 
 lover. He was aware that he had not the slightest 
 grounds for condemning her increasing interest in 
 Guise, knowing it to be beyond question the most 
 innocent hero-worship, as far removed from disloyalty 
 to her husband as would have been an admiration for 
 a classical demigod.
 
 76 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 " You remember with what brilliancy he conducted 
 himself at Saint Denis," continued the princess, at- 
 taching no particular import to the count's failure 
 to reply. She had spoken of Guise's behavior at 
 that battle dozens of times before ; it was a favorite 
 topic of conversation with her. As she frankly told 
 Chabanes, it seemed to her that each act of bravery 
 on the duke's part only served to justify the inclina- 
 tion that, as a girl, she had professed for him. 
 
 " I feel assured beyond doubt that the Prince de 
 Montpensier will repeat his magnificent demonstra- 
 tion of courage and soldiership," said Chabanes, 
 presently. 
 
 " Yes," replied Victoire, reflectively, " my husband 
 carried himself nobly. Still, it is less surprising that 
 the Prince de Montpensier, essentially a soldier and 
 a leader in battle, should acquit himself on all occa- 
 sions with the utmost courage and sagacity than that 
 the Due de Guise, whose versatility is so extraordi- 
 nary, and whom I know for a man of heart and 
 of great tenderness, should prove so unsurpassed a 
 warrior." 
 
 Chabanes shrank under this little encomium, as he 
 had done under many others from her lips. Guise 
 was beyond doubt her hero, without fear and with- 
 out reproach, familiarity with whom had not had 
 the opportunity to breed the contempt that, sooner 
 or later, must arise. Now, it was the incessant 
 hunger for the ideal that possessed her, the ideal, 
 far off and indistinct. Chabanes was often on the 
 point of petulantly springing to his feet and abruptly 
 leaving her, or of upbraiding her for being ignorant
 
 A LADY AND A LOVER 77 
 
 of his own great love, which seemed so vast that all 
 the world could not help being aware of it. The 
 temptation would possess him to cry to her, " My 
 heart aches to proffer what your soul so eagerly 
 craves ! Are you blind, that you should pass it by 
 unnoticed?" 
 
 Perhaps a quarter of an hour passed in silence. 
 The fire-light disappeared, resolving itself into glow- 
 ing embers which, in turn, died away in ashes. 
 
 At length Victoire spoke again. 
 
 " Raoul, you are one of the noblest men I have 
 ever known. Charles should be truly thankful that 
 he has such a friend. Pardon the frankness of such 
 a statement; but I cannot help wondering some- 
 times what might occur were any other man in 
 your position. What other man was ever trusted 
 so implicitly by a young and impetuous husband? 
 And by a wife," she added, remembering how little 
 of her life there was that she had not told him. 
 " Surely you are the truest of friends ; and I shall 
 never hesitate, as long as I live, to intrust you with 
 my life, my honor even." 
 
 The count shuddered. How differently she would 
 feel, he thought, could she read his inmost desires ! 
 
 " I appreciate such a confidence," he said ; " and, 
 God helping me, I shall try always to deserve it." 
 
 His voice sounded strained and unnatural, and he 
 was beginning to tremble nervously. He arose un- 
 steadily and went to Victoire's side. 
 
 "I have a a slight headache to-night," he said, 
 "and I beg that you will excuse me. Shall I call 
 Antoinette?"
 
 78 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 The princess arose quickly and took his hand. It 
 was moist and feverish. 
 
 " I hope you are not ill, Raoul," she said in a tone 
 of real sympathy. 
 
 " Oh, it is nothing of consequence," he answered, 
 lightly; " it will have passed in the morning." 
 
 " Then I must not detain you longer. Yes, you 
 may tell Antoinette to come. Good-night, Raoul, 
 I trust you will have entirely recovered in the 
 morning."
 
 VII 
 
 A VISITOR AND AN AVOWAL 
 
 ' I S HE chateau of Champigny was situated in a 
 * wide clearing surrounded by deep forests. 
 The estate was a vast one, including fields, forests, 
 and a number of streams, tributaries of the river 
 Vienne, which widened into a clear lake twenty 
 minutes' walk from the fagade of the chateau. The 
 hereditary home of the princes of Montpensier, 
 like the majority of French castles, had been built 
 at a number of periods, and, in consequence, the 
 architectural structure of different portions varied 
 widely. The high gothic fagade, begun in the 
 eleventh century, had been increased by a wing 
 placed at right angles to the east side and of a 
 length twice that of the original building. A later 
 addition placed a wing similar to the older building 
 at the other end of the long wing, and a still later 
 increase placed a short wing between the front and 
 rear portions on the west side of the long wing. 
 The plan of the chateau in its finished state thus 
 resembled a gigantic " E," and the castle-wings en- 
 closed two large courts each on three sides. The 
 second floor of the smallest and centre wing was 
 occupied by the apartments of Mme. de Mont- 
 pensier, the same story of the front wing contained
 
 8O A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 the rooms of the prince, and the Comte de Chabanes 
 ordinarily occupied the portion of the long wing 
 that lay between the two. In other words, the 
 prince's apartments were in the upper arm of the 
 " E," those of the princess in the middle arm, and 
 the count's lodgings in the upper half of the letter's 
 stem. The apartments of all three thus faced on 
 the same court, which was paved with stone flagging 
 and in the centre of which was a deep well, protected 
 by a huge carved balustrade. The lower half of 
 the " E " was reserved for royal visitors and princes 
 of the blood. 
 
 The household of the chateau was a type of the 
 organizations that the establishment of a prince at 
 that time required. The servants attached to the 
 stables, kennels, and kitchen were numerous, and in 
 addition to a dozen house-servants, the princess had 
 her women, chief of whom, of course, was Antoinette 
 de Lerac. Champigny had a chapel and a number of 
 private oratories, an armory, a council chamber, and 
 a great hall, as we have just seen. 
 
 As Chabanes left this hall, in which he and the 
 princess had been spending the dismal evening, he 
 traversed for forty paces a wide corridor that led to 
 the outer door of his own apartments. A few candles, 
 flickering in the chandeliers, furnished a feeble light, 
 by the aid of which he groped for his door. His 
 hand had just grasped the curtains that hung before 
 it when a man, evidently greatly startled, stepped out 
 and attempted to brush the count aside. The latter, 
 however, caught the fellow's doublet in his strong 
 grasp, opened the door and dragged the intruder into
 
 A VISITOR AND AN AVOWAL 8 1 
 
 the room. Once inside, he blew his whistle sharply 
 and waited. There was no response. The man in 
 the count's grasp was sputtering and gasping be- 
 neath the clutch of his captor. The count blew 
 another blast on his whistle, and from the darkness 
 of the room there came a trembling voice, which he 
 recognized as that of Antoinette. 
 
 " It is I, Monsieur," she said ; " shall I bring a light? " 
 
 " A light would possibly help us to clear matters a 
 trifle," responded the count, sarcastically. 
 
 There was the sound of pattering steps and of a 
 door being opened and closed, and presently An- 
 toinette appeared with two lighted candles, from the 
 flames of which she proceeded to illumine the apart- 
 ments. Then, and only then, the count relaxed his 
 hold on the collar of his prisoner, who, puffing and 
 panting, and very red in the face, proved to be the 
 German, Besme. 
 
 " It seems that I have the pleasure again, M. de 
 Besme," said the count, in the same sarcastic tone. 
 " What is your errand to-night, pray ? Are you look- 
 ing for old Huguenots to badger?" 
 
 The German shuffled his feet uneasily, and sullenly 
 hung his head. It was on the tip of his tongue to 
 make some insulting reference to the count's reported 
 Protestant sympathies, but he remembered the two 
 previous occasions on which he and Chabanes had 
 met, and refrained. He seemed no little alarmed at 
 his predicament, and cast about him for some plau- 
 sible excuse and means of escape. As he did not 
 immediately answer, the count turned to the trembling 
 maid for an explanation. 
 
 6
 
 82 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 " Monsieur," she said, stammering, " it was I that 
 brought him into your apartments. He came for no 
 harm, I am certain." 
 
 It was in the count's mind to call servants and have 
 the German confined in the dungeon. He knew the 
 man's attachment to Guise and felt a vague intuition 
 that the duke had sent him on some errand with 
 reference to Victoire. There was something in the 
 eager earnestness of the girl's tone, however, that 
 made him reconsider his project. He had never 
 known Antoinette to deceive him, and he felt that 
 she was to be trusted in all matters, especially those 
 pertaining to her mistress. 
 
 " I will conduct M. de Besme to the court, An- 
 toinette," he said gravely ; " but I warn him that if he 
 is caught in the vicinity of Champigny again, I shall 
 have him confined in the dungeon." And turning to 
 Besme he added abruptly, " If you are ready, Mon- 
 sieur, we will go : after you." 
 
 When they had descended to the court, the German 
 found his voice. " Monsieur," he said, in a tone of 
 sudden defiance and anger, " I shall not forget you. 
 You have seen fit to wrong me in every way, by 
 insult and by violence, and I have sought no 
 revenge. This latest injury you do me, in stealing 
 from me the woman I love, shall surely not go un- 
 answered. My arm is longer than you may imagine. 
 We shall meet again, Monsieur." Having delivered 
 himself of which warning, the German strode away 
 into the darkness. 
 
 Chabanes turned into the chateau with a puzzled 
 look on his features. What could the knave mean ?
 
 A VISITOR AND AN AVOWAL 83 
 
 He must be mad ! Could he have guessed that the 
 count loved the princess? Could it be that the 
 German aspired to the love of Victoire? The count 
 laughed heartily at the absurdity of such a conjecture. 
 Nevertheless, there was something strange in Besme's 
 words, and it was with a feeling of confusion that 
 Chabanes faced Antoinette on his return to his 
 chamber. 
 
 He noticed that the girl was unusually pale for one 
 so dark, and fancied that he could even detect the 
 traces of tears on her cheeks and about her eyes. 
 " The man has been torturing her as he did the old 
 Huguenot," he thought. 
 
 "Well, Antoinette, I am greatly puzzled at to- 
 night's occurrences," said the count, in a kindly tone. 
 " I hope you can explain them satisfactorily." 
 
 " Monsieur," replied the maid, her eyes filling with 
 tears, " there is little to tell. M. de Besme has for 
 some time forced his attentions on me, writing me 
 almost daily. Heretofore I have forbidden him to 
 come to Champigny, knowing that his presence here 
 must be odious to my mistress " with a glance of 
 significance that brought a flush to the count's face 
 " but to-night he disregarded my wishes and sur- 
 prised me by slipping past the sentry and seeking me 
 in my room. I finally prevailed on him to leave, and 
 just as I was conducting him through the corridor to 
 the court, we heard steps approaching. Supposing 
 one of the servants was coming, and not wishing that 
 M. de Besme should be seen, I opened the first door, 
 which happened to be your own, and told him to 
 conceal himself there with me until the steps had
 
 84 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 passed. It was thus that you met him as you were 
 about to enter your door." 
 
 The count mused for a moment in silence. 
 
 " Are the attentions of Besme unpleasant to you, 
 Antoinette ? " he said, presently. 
 
 "Very, Monsieur." 
 
 " The sentry shall be doubled from to-morrow, and 
 he will not annoy you again so easily. I presume 
 you would rather Mme. de Montpensier knew noth- 
 ing of this affair?" 
 
 "Yes, Monsieur; it would pain her deeply to 
 know that a follower of the Due de Guise had been 
 here " 
 
 She stopped suddenly and cast a piercing glance 
 at the count, who again colored. 
 
 " You love her ! " she cried despairingly. " You 
 love her ! I am sure of it ! " She threw herself on 
 her knees before a chair and, burying her head in 
 her hands, sobbed disconsolately. 
 
 Chabanes, struck with a sudden dread and moved 
 at the sight of her tears, stepped forward to assist 
 her to her feet. She shook him off, however, and 
 wept more violently. He controlled himself with an 
 effort. 
 
 " Antoinette," he said, in his kindly way, " has 
 some one hurt you? Have I said anything to cause 
 you such grief? " 
 
 The girl did not answer. " You love her ! " she 
 repeated, between sobs. 
 
 " Love whom, Antoinette ? " asked the count, sadly. 
 
 " My mistress." 
 
 " Doubtless ; who does not love your mistress,
 
 A VISITOR AND AN AVOWAL 85 
 
 that knows her? But what has that to do with 
 these tears?" 
 
 The girl slowly raised her head. Then, suddenly 
 flinging back her hair from her forehead, she arose 
 and faced him, her cheeks glowing and her black 
 eyes flashing. 
 
 "What has that to do with it?" she cried. " Are 
 you blind, Monsieur? Can you not see that I love 
 you ? I I the maid, Antoinette I love you ! 
 Now can you ask what your love for Madame has 
 to do with my tears ? Do you know why I almost 
 hate the mistress that has loved me as her own 
 sister? Do you know why I so thoroughly despise 
 M. de Besme? that I almost told him so to-night?" 
 
 She sank back on the floor exhausted by this out- 
 burst and terrified at what she had done. The 
 count, startled and surprised, remained immobile. 
 It pained him beyond expression to know that this 
 girl had wasted such an intense, overpowering pas- 
 sion on him. He was aware now of Besme's mean- 
 ing when he had referred to stolen affections. After 
 a moment he laid his hand softly on the girl's 
 shoulder. A shudder swept over her, but she did 
 not move. 
 
 "Antoinette, how long has this how long have 
 you felt so toward me ? " 
 
 The maid, who had expected to be at once ordered 
 to her room, took courage at the kindliness of his 
 tone. 
 
 " Since the day you first came to Champigny, 
 Monsieur," she sobbed, softly. "No, since I first 
 saw you as a guardsman at M^zieres."
 
 86 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 "And what did you tell Besme, to-night?" he 
 continued. 
 
 " I could not prevail on him to leave until I had 
 told him that I had given my heart to some one else ; 
 and then he was so insistent that I was compelled 
 to half-acknowledge that it was to you. He seemed 
 to have suspected it; all men are not so blind to 
 such things as you, Monsieur." 
 
 The girl's artless sincerity was too apparent for the 
 count to suspect for a moment that she was deceiving 
 him. 
 
 "Antoinette," he said softly it seemed that she 
 trembled at the very sound of his voice "Antoi- 
 nette, you must never refer to this again. You are 
 possessed by some foolish hallucination that will soon 
 pass " 
 
 " Not that ! " she cried, suddenly, almost fiercely. 
 "Anything but that! At least give my love its 
 due." 
 
 " Well, as you will. But before you go, you must 
 promise never to mention it again. If you did, I 
 should have to speak of it to Madame, you know, 
 and she " 
 
 " She would send me away. Monsieur, I promise ! 
 I should never even see you again ! " 
 
 "Very well," said the count, who was growing 
 anxious to end the little scene ; " and now we under- 
 stand each other. We are not to speak on this 
 subject again, and Madame is to know nothing; is 
 it agreed?" 
 
 " It is, Monsieur," replied Antoinette, who, knowing 
 that the count's words were her dismissal, had arisen.
 
 A VISITOR AND AN AVOWAL 8/ 
 
 " Good-night, Monsieur." She fled hastily into 
 the corridor. 
 
 " Good-night, Antoinette." 
 
 Frangois, the count's valet, appeared presently to 
 assist his master in retiring, having been notified by 
 the maid that the count was in his apartments.
 
 VIII 
 
 A CONFIDANT AND A RESOLUTION 
 
 THE valet was tall and angular, possessing feat- 
 ures of much irregularity. Chabanes, who 
 was assured that the fellow possessed several valuable 
 qualities, had discovered him in the guard of a noble- 
 man in the south of France and, when the count 
 went to Champigny, he sent for the guardsman and 
 employed him as his valet. Chabanes prized him for 
 his taciturnity and his knowledge of war and the 
 chase, rather than for his ability as a gentleman's 
 valet, in which latter calling, however, his master had 
 thoroughly instructed him. The devotion of Francois 
 to Chabanes was equalled only by that of the count's 
 enormous boar-hound, Hercules. 
 
 Montpensier had presented the count with the dog 
 soon after Chabanes had retired to Champigny, and 
 the value to Chabanes of the animal's faithful friend- 
 ship and canine sympathy had become inestimable. 
 When, torn by a thousand wild desires and over- 
 powering emotions, the count yearned for a sympa- 
 thetic ear into which he might pour the torrents of 
 his despair, he sought this dumb companion, drawing 
 great comfort from the confidences that he bestowed 
 on Hercules. Hercules was only a dog and incapable 
 of understanding, but he was an animate confidant
 
 A CONFIDANT AND A RESOLUTION 89 
 
 that loved his master, and it was better to share his 
 burdens with the dog than to bear their crushing 
 weight in stifling silence. 
 
 "Where is Hercules to-night, Franjois?" asked 
 Chabanes, as the valet entered the room. 
 
 " He was restless to-night, Monsieur, and an hour 
 ago I took him out in the park. He broke away 
 from me a few minutes since and attacked a strange 
 man that was leaving through the north gate. The 
 man turned on him with his sword and would have 
 struck the dog, had I not succeeded in attracting the 
 attention of Hercules." 
 
 " The dog, then, is uninjured ? " 
 
 "Yes, Monsieur." 
 
 " Bring him to me. I shall not need you to-night." 
 
 When the valet had gone for the dog, Chabanes 
 threw off his doublet and approached a window that 
 opened on the court. He saw that a light still burned 
 in the apartments of Victoire. 
 
 Presently Frangois returned, leading the boar- 
 hound by the end of a broken chain. The great 
 brute bounded into the room and sprang on his 
 master in an ecstasy of pleasure. The valet retired, 
 after bidding Chabanes good-night. The count per- 
 mitted the dog to place his fore-feet on his shoulders. 
 Hercules' tail wagged madly, and at intervals his 
 cavernous mouth emitted short yelps of joy. 
 
 " So you broke your chain again, did you, Her- 
 cules?" said Chabanes, gently forcing the boar-hound 
 to the floor and caressing his huge head. 
 
 Hercules barked his reply, and the count walked 
 slowly back to the window.
 
 90 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 "Do you see the light over there, Hercules?" he 
 continued, as the dog, in seeming realization of his 
 master's serious mood, ceased his vociferous manifes- 
 tations and gazed sedately out across the starlit court. 
 "You and I have often seen it before, and we both 
 know whose light it is. It is furnished by a half- 
 dozen tapers in a candelabrum that stands on a great 
 oak table. On the table are many little silver trifles, 
 combs and caskets and such things, and beside the 
 table stands a great oval mirror. It is just as it was 
 one night, many months ago, at M6zieres. A woman 
 sits beside the table, Hercules. She is very beautiful, 
 and over her shapely white shoulders there streams a 
 vast cascade of glistening sable hair, through which 
 a maid gently draws a heavy silver comb. 
 
 " Her eyes are very blue and her lips are red, and, 
 although I have never been near to them, I know 
 that they are very soft and warm. And her heart, 
 Hercules, is true as Heaven itself. She is brave and 
 kind and trusting. Would you love any one that 
 was very good and beautiful and innocent, and that 
 trusted you as though you were an archangel, instead 
 of a man of common clay, rent by a thousand desires? " 
 
 Chabanes paused and glanced down at the dog as 
 though he half-expected an answer. Hercules, at 
 this attention, licked his master's hand. Then the 
 dog looked out of the window again and gave a short 
 yelp. Chabanes turned toward the window opposite. 
 The light had disappeared. 
 
 " Now she has sought her couch, Hercules, and 
 Antoinette softly strums her harpsichord, as the great 
 blue eyes slowly close and the fair white bosom rises
 
 A CONFIDANT AND A RESOLUTION 91 
 
 and falls measuredly. She sleeps. Now she wanders 
 in a fairy dreamland, crowded with elves and fays 
 that float about on the languid midnight air, beneath 
 the pale silver moon. Each of them loves her and 
 wants her for queen. They fondle her long, soft hair, 
 their cobweb wings lightly brush her cheeks, they 
 whisper love messages into her rosy ears. Now the 
 fairy prince is coming to bear her gently away to the 
 great golden palace that overhangs the blue sea. 
 What do you suppose he resembles, Hercules? Has 
 he a single feature, a single characteristic, like mine? 
 Ah, no, that were too much to expect ! That were 
 more than ever I could deserve. 
 
 " Besides, Hercules, it is ridiculous, absurd. Fairy 
 princes are just the opposite of the plain, taciturn, 
 gloomy Comte de Chabanes, whose dull life might be 
 filled with unutterable happiness, could he feel for a 
 moment that, in a single quality, he was like the 
 prince of her dreams her innocent dreams. No, 
 no, the fairy prince is handsome and haughty and ma- 
 jestic, elegant and dashing. Do you know whom he 
 resembles, Hercules? He is like the Due de Guise ! " 
 
 Chabanes sprang to a trophy of arms, seized a 
 sword, and brandished it in the air. Hercules, in 
 terror, crawled cautiously away from him, growling 
 softly. 
 
 " But he is not more brave than I. I, the soldier, 
 the adventurer, the fighter, cooped here in a castle- 
 prison, while others draw and strike and lunge, while 
 France is torn with strife, and the Due de Guise, 
 with a reckless laugh on his handsome, wicked face, 
 dashes proudly at the head of his halberdiers into
 
 92 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 the face of the enemy. There is the fairy prince 
 for the land of enchanted palaces and fire-breathing 
 dragons, for the land of great deeds and heroic 
 fights ! I am but Raoul de la Tour d'lvoire, Comte 
 de Chabanes, chafing in an exile's prison, an official 
 major-domo, an intermediary for M. and Mme. de 
 Montpensier, who are my friends, whose friend I 
 am. Come, dog, let us fly, let us escape, let us 
 seek that place where there is fighting and the play 
 of steel, the flash of sunlight on burnished armor 
 and cleaving blade, the clash of shields and the 
 shouts of triumph ! Let us show this woman, that 
 man, the world, that we also are brave to the 
 death; that we can fight and lead and go where 
 none dare follow; that we are worthy of all the 
 admiration, all the affection, all the love that the 
 haughtiest princess in Christendom dare bestow ! " 
 
 To see the count at such a moment as this would 
 have been a revelation to those that knew him only 
 as the coolest and most self-possessed of men, never 
 moved to betray the slightest emotion beyond a 
 tender and watchful sympathy for those he loved. 
 The thought of this fact brought his bad quar- 
 ter-hour to a temporary close. He shrugged his 
 shoulders, laughed softly, replaced the sword in its 
 scabbard, and began the wearisome process of stifling 
 feeling beneath a weight of well-worn reasoning. 
 
 " Hercules," he said, quietly, " thank your stars 
 you are a dog, and not a fool. I, who waste words 
 over an insane desire to be a swashbuckling Jacques 
 Callot, have, in the first place, given my word to my 
 friend and benefactor, the Prince de Montpensier,
 
 A CONFIDANT AND A RESOLUTION 93 
 
 that I will remain here at Champigny and guard his 
 wife as I would were she my own, until such time 
 as he may be able to secure for me full exoneration 
 from the suspicion of being a Huguenot. Were I to 
 carry into action the least of my wild projects, doubt- 
 less, within the week, or fortnight at most, I should 
 be cast into prison to languish in solitude, while M. 
 de Montpensier prosecuted the war and Victoire was 
 left alone. " 
 
 Hercules, seeing his master's excitement die away, 
 came forward and placed his nose on the count's 
 knee, slyly glancing up at him. 
 
 " Besides, I could not leave Champigny, Hercules ; 
 my conscience would always taunt me with having 
 fled from myself, from my weakness for this glorious 
 woman, whose companionship has grown to be my 
 very life. Heaven knows any duty were easier to 
 face or more difficult to escape. The world will 
 believe me a coward if I stay here, living a woman's 
 life. I shall know myself a poltroon if I leave." 
 
 He arose and went to the window, whither the dog 
 leisurely followed him. "This is the bitter part of 
 it, Hercules," he said, glancing down at the latter as 
 though he fully believed the animal capable of under- 
 standing and sympathizing ; " that woman yonder, of 
 whom you and I have just dreamed, is my friend's 
 wife. Her life and love belong to him that gave 
 you to me as he has given me his affection, his confi- 
 dence, and his protection. You are a good friend. 
 Hercules, but you are the least of the gifts for which 
 I am under such obligations to the Prince de Mont- 
 pensier as in a dozen life-times I may not discharge.
 
 94 * PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 He has intrusted me with his honor and his happiness ; 
 I am to guard them for him. Will you help me ? " 
 
 The dog wagged his tail good-naturedly. 
 
 " Very well, then ; let me talk to you, let me argue 
 with you, and then give me your advice and opinion 
 as you would give it to yourself." 
 
 Hercules crawled closer to his master and whined 
 mournfully. " I would do anything for you, but I 
 cannot understand," he seemed to say. 
 
 Chabanes sighed, but continued. " To-night I 
 have found another complication to make it all the 
 harder for us. Antoinette, who is a good though 
 silly girl, believes she loves me, and has hysterically 
 confessed her passion. It is, of course, a mere 
 infatuation, but as such it may have many evil results. 
 Victoire would dismiss her at the first suspicion that 
 her maid had thus addressed me. Antoinette has 
 promised never to mention the subject again. What 
 if she forget? I cannot permit her to indulge in 
 senseless illusions. She knows that her ancestors 
 have been instrumental in creating the history of 
 France, and her birth is noble. Still, I believe she 
 realizes her position." 
 
 The count paced several times up and down the 
 apartment, a look of deep concern on his face. 
 " Moreover," he said, " she knows that I love her 
 mistress. What if she were to become jealous as 
 I am jealous? Then there is this German dog 
 I beg your pardon," and he bowed ceremoniously to 
 Hercules " who has an evil habit of sneaking and 
 may attempt to injure us. The possibilities of dis- 
 aster are endless."
 
 A CONFIDANT AND A RESOLUTION 95 
 
 Presently he began preparing to retire. " Let us 
 repeat our resolution, Hercules," he said, pausing to 
 pat the dog's head affectionately. " Perhaps, though 
 we may in great measure consider ourselves neces- 
 sary to his happiness, inwardly we have betrayed our 
 friend's trust and our lady's confidence ; yet shall it 
 never be known and we will fight our battle alone, 
 suffering in silence, and cleaving to our duty." 
 
 Antoinette had gone directly to the apartments of 
 the princess, whom she found in a cheerful frame of 
 mind arranging a pile of old letters with which her 
 table was bestrewn. The maid waited in respectful 
 silence for several minutes while her mistress, hum- 
 ming a love-ditty softly to herself, gathered the 
 letters into little heaps preparatory to tying them 
 with tiny ribbons. At length Victoire spoke, in her 
 preoccupation scarcely looking at the waiting girl. 
 
 " Do you see that great pile of letters, Anne? You 
 cannot guess from whom I received them." 
 
 The maid smiled sorrowfully as she replied, " How 
 many guesses am I to have?" 
 
 " I will give you only one, stupid girl ; if you have 
 not divined the writer already I have had a mistaken 
 idea of your acumen." 
 
 Antoinette pretended to reflect profoundly. 
 
 " I could wish," she said, after a moment, " that 
 they were avowals of devotion from another; but I 
 am compelled to announce that my guess is M. Henri 
 de Guise." 
 
 " Doubtless you have guessed well," replied the 
 princess, affecting an indifferent laugh. "And who, 
 pray, is this other for whom you are so solicitous?"
 
 96 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 Victoire expected to hear Antoinette pronounce 
 the prince's name, though she could scarcely under- 
 stand how the maid could have the hardihood to offer 
 her this implied rebuke. 
 
 "Who else than the devoted M. de Chabanes?" 
 
 " Fie, Antoinette ! M. le Comte is not a lover, 
 and his devotion is all to the prince, our liege, not to 
 the simple little girl with whom his best friend has 
 been pleased to charge him." Then, her tone be- 
 coming more serious, she added, " But, true enough, 
 Anne, we make light of solemn subjects. The prince 
 is the noblest of husbands, and M. de Chabanes the 
 truest of friends." 
 
 " And Henri de Guise is ? " suggested the maid, 
 naively. 
 
 " Quite forgotten by both of us. And so we 
 will talk of other things. How tangled my hair must 
 be to-night ! " 
 
 When Victoire had fallen asleep the maid retired 
 to the adjacent room which served her as a sleeping- 
 apartment, and threw herself, still dressed, upon her 
 couch. 
 
 " The fortune-teller's words were true ! " she moaned 
 to herself. " He told Victoire that she would love too 
 late, and prophesied that I would love too early and 
 in vain. Poor Raoul ! Fate makes him love her 
 and so involve the happiness of all that love him, as 
 well as his own. Heaven pity him and me ! 
 Heaven grant that some day I may help him to 
 find the joy and peace his noble nature deserves ! "
 
 IX 
 
 A HUSBAND AND A FRIEND 
 
 CHABANES, whose ill fortune in being suspected 
 of traitorous sympathies would not permit him 
 to take part in the many battles that had been, and 
 were, giving the gentlemen of France most excellent 
 opportunities for displaying their courage and soldierly 
 accomplishments, followed closely the events of the 
 war which the king's army was waging against the 
 Huguenots. Being of too tender a heart not to loathe 
 persecution and cruelty, yet imbued with an ardent 
 admiration for true bravery and cool-headed skill, 
 the count constantly wavered between a feeling of 
 thankfulness that it was not required of him to 
 participate in what seemed to him a causeless and 
 unworthy war, and an often recurring longing for 
 the dash and cut of the cavalry charge or the play 
 of the clashing steel. The count had established a 
 post service to Paris soon after his arrival at Cham- 
 pigny and two messengers were almost constantly 
 on the way, going and coming with the latest infor- 
 mation from the scenes of military and political 
 activity. The princess was greatly pleased with 
 this enterprise, which enabled her at all times to 
 receive direct and accurate information from her 
 husband and friends. Chabanes, although feeling 
 
 7
 
 98 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 that Victoire's pleasure arose principally from the 
 fact that she might be in almost direct communication 
 with the fields of action where fought the Due de 
 Guise, felt himself amply repaid for the trouble of 
 establishing the post. 
 
 On the first of November, 1567, the first messenger 
 had ridden into Champigny with the news of the 
 enterprise of Meaux. The Amiral de Coligny, the 
 Prince de Cond6, and the other Protestant leaders 
 had made a futile attempt to gain possession of the 
 person of the king, who was sojourning at the queen's 
 palace of Monceaux in Champagne, and to establish 
 a regency of the Reformed Church. The count, on 
 hearing this news, predicted to the princess that an 
 immense quantity of blood would be exacted to wipe 
 out this insult to the throne and to the orthodox 
 Church. A fortnight later came the first verification 
 of this prediction. Chabanes' messengers brought 
 an account of the sanguinary battle of Saint-Denis 
 in which the brave leader of the Catholics, Constable 
 Anne de Montmorency, found victory and death. 
 January, 1568, brought the news that Chartres was 
 besieged, the Prince de Cond6 holding off the Due 
 d'Anjou, now Lieutenant-General of the realm, until 
 March twenty-third, when the treaty of Longjumeau 
 relieved the city and reinstated the Protestant leaders 
 in their former positions. Chabanes was little de- 
 ceived by this treaty. He knew too well the cunning 
 of the queen-mother, Catherine de M^dicis, not to 
 see that the treaty had been arranged only to relieve 
 the threatened city, and that peace would be merely 
 nominal and short-lived. When the Prince de Mont-
 
 A HUSBAND AND A FRIEND 99 
 
 pensier returned to Champigny, for the first time 
 since his marriage, the count assured him that his 
 sojourn there would be brief, as a third religious war 
 was imminent. Indeed, scarcely five months later, 
 the prince was recalled to Paris, war having been 
 again declared as a result of the failure of the king in 
 his attempt to arrest Conde* and Coligny at Noyers. 
 
 From the first Victoire had exhibited an intense 
 interest in the movements of the two armies and in 
 the results of the various actions, which the count 
 forecasted, explained, and detailed at great length for 
 her. It did not take Chabanes long to discover that 
 this interest arose scarcely from religious zeal or 
 concern in the martial accomplishments of the Prince 
 de Montpensier. It was the great success of Henri 
 de Guise that filled Victoire with elation. The repu- 
 tation for bravery and generalship, which the young 
 man commenced building at Saint Denis, and which he 
 augmented at the siege of Chartres, became almost 
 the sole topic of thought and conversation with 
 Victoire. When she heard that Guise was held by 
 many to be the superior in warfare of the king's 
 brother, the Due d'Anjou, her delight passed all 
 bounds. She continually spoke to the count of 
 Guise's accomplishments and daring, as a child tells 
 over and over the imaginary deeds of a fairyland 
 hero. 
 
 Almost the first evidence of that confidence which 
 Victoire placed in Chabanes and which filled the count 
 with such inexplicable pride and emotion was her 
 relation to him of her former attachment for Guise. 
 The count listened to her in grave silence as she
 
 100 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 told how passionately fond of the young duke she 
 had once believed herself to be, adding that the folly 
 of the infatuation was now clear to her, and that, aside 
 from an ardent admiration for Guise, there remained 
 no trace of a childish fancy. Chabanes sighed with 
 relief at this latter statement and when the princess 
 naively declared that the souvenir of her devotion to 
 the Due de Guise would always be an invincible safe- 
 guard against the gallantries of other men. 
 
 When at last, in hot shame and self-condemnation, 
 Chabanes was compelled to acknowledge to himself 
 that he loved Victoire, he was also forced to admit 
 that his jealousy of Guise was as unbounded as his 
 passion for the princess. Day by day, apace with his 
 worship of this lovely creature, grew his dread of the 
 slightest mention of the duke by Victoire, until he 
 hated his rival in the lady's esteem with all his heart. 
 And it seemed that the subject, instead of gradually 
 wearing out, became more and more interesting to 
 Victoire. 
 
 Chabanes felt that, since Guise was the only one 
 that had ever spoken to the princess of love, her 
 natural, unrealized yearning made her speak so often 
 of one that had evinced so gratifying an interest in 
 herself. The count, with all the strength of his 
 nature and his passion, yearned to satisfy her evident 
 longing. His reason bade him reproach the fate that 
 had permitted Henri de Guise the inestimable happi- 
 ness and advantage of professing love to Victoire, and 
 that had forbidden him ever to mention his own 
 passion, which was so inexpressibly vaster and purer 
 than any ardor of which Guise was capable. How-
 
 A HUSBAND AND A FRIEND IOI 
 
 ever, when peace had been declared, Chabanes was 
 filled with a hope that the prowess of Guise would 
 no longer occupy so important a place in the conver- 
 sation of Victoire. But even after Montpensier's 
 return to Champigny her wonted interest in the 
 subject did not abate. Little by little the convic- 
 tion grew on Chabanes that this young woman had 
 enshrined Henri de Guise, her girlhood lover, high 
 on the pedestal of an abstract ideal ; that, never hav- 
 ing experienced an intense human love and never hav- 
 ing known herself to be the object of another passion 
 than that which Guise had professed, her admiration 
 for one who, skilled in the arts of gallantry, had 
 shown himself to her only in the best possible light, 
 had become a form of hero-worship that the strongest 
 influences would have difficulty in shaking. 
 
 Toward her husband Victoire exhibited a dutiful 
 tolerance. He was not a lovable man, with his rough, 
 soldier-like manners and his air of conscious proprie- 
 torship, and Chabanes, who best knew that under this 
 unalluring exterior beat a true, noble heart, felt that 
 Victoire was only thankful for every circumstance 
 that required her husband's presence away from 
 Champigny. 
 
 The prince himself was not slow to notice Vic- 
 toire's thinly veneered indifference to him, as well 
 as her excessive fondness of all mention of Guise. 
 Chabanes felt that his friend sedulously avoided the 
 subject, and he began to fear the hour when jealousy 
 should awaken in the breast of the prince. Mont- 
 pensier ever wore his heart on his sleeve, and the 
 count foresaw much unhappiness for the princess
 
 102 A PAR FIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 when her husband's hatred of Guise and suspicion of 
 herself should be aroused. 
 
 Victoire's first request, when the prince had re- 
 turned to Champigny, was that he should promise 
 her to forget his ill-feeling toward Guise. In the 
 joy of meeting he had yielded. Later, when constant 
 mention of the duke by his wife became irritating to 
 Montpensier, he regretted his thoughtless promise 
 and cast about him for means of retrieving it. The 
 princess, on her part, felt that, her husband having 
 freely forgiven what had been done in a fit of childish 
 impulse, she might with equal freedom speak of the 
 duke on all occasions without offending her lord. 
 
 The old wound had never entirely closed, however, 
 and it was painfully reopened- when, one bright 
 summer afternoon, the prince reprimanded his wife 
 sharply, bringing an angry flush to the cheek of 
 Chabanes as well as to hers. 
 
 They were all three riding down the long, leafy 
 avenue that led from the chateau to that portion of 
 the river Vienne that widened into a sort of lagoon, 
 surrounded by a dense forest, whose interlacing 
 branches formed a canopy for the still, clear body 
 of water, and whose green terraces walled it in, so 
 that, but for a few hours at noon, the sun never shone 
 on its surface. Victoire had christened the spot 
 "Apollo's Lake," and it was here that she and the 
 count spent many a delightful afternoon drifting over 
 the lagoon in a small skiff, reading and conversing, 
 and occasionally blending their voices in light-hearted 
 song. Chabanes was well skilled in playing the lute 
 and possessed of an exceptional voice, while the
 
 A HUSBAND AND A FRIEND 103 
 
 princess could on occasion pour from her beautiful 
 white throat the most entrancing melody imaginable. 
 As the party approached the water, Chabanes, in 
 illustrating some point in an explanation of the arts 
 of the chase, lifted his beautiful black horse, Nero, 
 over a fairly high bush, at which the princess clapped 
 her hands in delight, exclaiming that there was but 
 one other in France that could exactly duplicate the 
 feat. 
 
 "And, who, pray, may that be?" inquired the 
 count, smiling with pleasure at the compliment. 
 
 " I have seen M. de Guise perform the same ex- 
 ploit at Mezieres," replied Victoire, naively. 
 
 Montpensier, who was beaming admiringly on the 
 count, turned sharply to his wife and said in a tone 
 of anger, " Madame, do you never tire of the sound 
 of that name ? Let me assure you that I do." 
 
 The princess turned very red, but, with admirable 
 self-control, refrained from answering. Chabanes 
 contented himself with clutching his bridle fiercely 
 and biting his lips till they bled ; his impulse for the 
 moment was strongly suggestive of forgetting his 
 friendship for Montpensier and making him swallow 
 his ill-mannered words. The princess was the first 
 to regain her composure, continuing her conversa- 
 tion on another subject as though nothing had oc- 
 curred to mar the serenity of the outing. The count 
 noticed that, after that afternoon, she no longer spoke 
 of Guise in her husband's presence, though she did 
 not in the least restrain herself on this subject when 
 alone with Chabanes or with others. 
 
 The day before his departure, in August, for Paris
 
 IO4 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 the prince, on the pretext of enjoying a farewell hawk- 
 ing expedition with the count, carried off his friend 
 into the forest ; but, although a bird sat gravely on 
 the wrist of each, the jesses of neither tercelet nor 
 falcon were slipped. 
 
 For a half-hour the two men rode in silence 
 through the forest, Chabanes feeling intuitively that 
 the prince desired to speak to him of Victoire. At 
 last Montpensier broke the silence, saying, " Raoul, 
 grant me one more favor. Give me your honest 
 opinion of my domestic affairs." 
 
 Chabanes could scarcely restrain a wince, notwith- 
 standing the request had been foreseen and expected. 
 He did not reply at once, and when he did speak his 
 words came slowly and thoughtfully. 
 
 "Judging by the usual order of our households, 
 Charles, you have little ground for complaint. You 
 have a wife of remarkable beauty, wit, and virtue, 
 who resides during your absences in a neighbor- 
 hood unfrequented by temptations " 
 
 " Watched over by the most faithful of friends and 
 the wisest of men," interrupted the prince, earnestly. 
 
 Chabanes blushed furiously ; his imagination tried 
 to persuade him that his friend's words were pervaded 
 by a delicate sarcasm, but the implicit confidence 
 betrayed by the prince's affectionate expression 
 was perfectly reassuring. Montpensier, on his side, 
 attributed the count's embarrassment to modesty. 
 
 " It would seem, Charles," continued Chabanes, 
 after a moment's silence, " that your domestic affairs 
 leave little to be desired, except love," he added, 
 after a short pause, without varying his tone.
 
 A HUSBAND AND A FRIEND 1 05 
 
 Montpensier regarded his friend with astonishment. 
 " I do not think I quite understand." 
 
 " I know it is not generally considered a very nec- 
 essary adjunct to domestic completeness," continued 
 the count, " but I cannot help feeling that it would be 
 a wonderfully valuable addition in any case. At all 
 events, Charles, why do you not try to attain it?" 
 
 The prince eyed his friend searchingly. " If any- 
 one else were to talk to me in that way I should 
 believe he was laughing at me. You know as well 
 as I, Raoul, that I am scarcely the man to inspire any 
 woman with the tender passion. I am fit for fight- 
 ing, nothing else ; from love and intrigue I am in 
 all ways barred. So long as I am able to maintain 
 my wife's respect, I shall feel that I have accom- 
 plished much. I believe I do love her in a way, 
 for I cannot bear her to show the slightest liking 
 for others, and that is jealousy, is it not? And 
 jealousy is a symptom of love, is it not?" 
 
 The count did not answer these questions. " So 
 long as you believe yourself incapable of command- 
 ing your wife's love she is not likely to change her 
 attitude toward you. If you have never tried, how 
 do you know that you cannot make her love you ? " 
 
 " I am only too ready to try ! " cried the prince, 
 despairingly. " But how shall! begin, and when? " 
 
 "Begin now and in the only possible manner. 
 Treat her with solicitude and affection ; anticipate 
 her wishes and shape her desires; show her the 
 right path when she falls into the wrong one; in 
 short, devote yourself to her happiness and welfare. If 
 you do that scrupulously not servilely, mind you !
 
 106 A PARFIT GEN TIL KNIGHT 
 
 there is no woman on earth but will admire you, 
 like you, and who knows? love you." 
 
 " But you do all that, Raoul ; she has told me so 
 herself. Does she love you, then?" 
 
 " I am not her husband." 
 
 "True, but I will warrant that your influence over 
 her is already far greater than her husband's. And, 
 really, Raoul, if you have been to her all that she 
 tells me you have been, I could scarcely blame her 
 for worshipping you. Perhaps, after all, I should 
 be thankful for this inclination of hers for Guise ; it 
 may prevent her loving you." 
 
 Montpensier spoke these last words lightly and 
 without the least desire to wound the count, whom 
 he expected to receive them in the spirit in which 
 they were given. The latter could not but suffer the 
 more at realizing this fact, and his interest in Victoire 
 resented the unseemly levity. 
 
 " A moment ago, Charles," he said, quietly, " you 
 asked me if jealousy was not a symptom of love. 
 It is rather an evidence of selfishness. If you will 
 accept my advice you will crush it out of your heart, 
 and, above all things, you will never let it betray 
 itself to your wife. Hers is a sensitive nature, whose 
 pride ill accepts such affronts as jealousy prompts. 
 She married you without knowing you, and because 
 she felt that the sacrifice was demanded by her duty 
 to her father and to her king. If you truly love her 
 you will ever bear this in mind, and you will remem- 
 ber that she is in many ways a child, and as such to 
 be indulgently treated. I believe she loves no man 
 as you would have her love you, and I as firmly
 
 A HUSBAND AND A FRIEND IO/ 
 
 believe that it is in your power, through the mani- 
 festations of a violent jealousy, not only to earn her 
 hatred, but to force her into at least a fancied affec- 
 tion for another." 
 
 " But you also believe that I can make her love 
 me?" 
 
 " You can only try, as is your duty. If you suc- 
 ceed you have won the purest, noblest heart in the 
 world and I shall be the first to stifle envy and con- 
 gratulate you." 
 
 "And if I fail?" 
 
 "Your love will have an opportunity of proving 
 itself; it can devote itself to the happiness of its 
 object." 
 
 Montpensier flecked a fly from his horse's mane. 
 " Do you truly believe, Raoul," he said, earnestly, 
 "that your advice is feasible? Jealousy, disap- 
 pointed love, and longing are said to be terrible 
 things. I feel that as yet I have known but half 
 their terrors, but you have known nothing of them. 
 You speak of love abstractly ; I suffer from a concrete 
 instance. Does not the very selfishness of love pre- 
 clude such sacrifice as you advocate?" 
 
 " I insist again that true love is the very opposite 
 of selfishness. Until you can realize this, you can 
 never win a true woman, for you will not deserve 
 one." 
 
 " Ah, well," sighed the prince, " you are doubtless 
 right. I dare not question the correctness of your 
 views. And now," he continued, extending his hand, 
 which the other clasped warmly, " since you are in 
 all things my friend, you owe me your candid advice
 
 108 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 in all things. Tell me the position of Guise in Vic- 
 toire's affections, and the attitude that I should pre- 
 serve toward him with her." 
 
 " He is her childhood hero, whose faults are un- 
 known to her, and whose virtues are half of her own 
 fancy and half of his own affectation. He cannot 
 but fall from his pedestal when she has seen him as 
 he is and knows him as you and^ I and all France 
 know him. The shattering of the idol will be very 
 painful to her, and woe to him that throws it down 
 before her proud eyes. If you would save her from 
 suffering, you will not discourage her harmless illu- 
 sions, though they hurt you when you misconstrue 
 them. Now her liking for Guise is a child's, and 
 without wrong; some day her woman's heart will 
 crave a love as great as it will be capable of bestow- 
 ing in return, and Henri de Lorraine will be forgotten. 
 You must give to her that love, Charles. Bide your 
 time, improve your opportunities, and, as you love 
 her, try to save her from the pain the sight of the 
 broken idol at her feet would cause her. In a word, 
 bear with her now in every way, that in the future, 
 when she becomes in every sense a woman, you can 
 offer her the love for which her soul must hunger." 
 
 " I thank God for so noble a friend ! " exclaimed 
 Montpensier, deeply touched by Chabanes' earnest- 
 ness. " With your help, Raoul, I ought to win her ; 
 and I swear to you that I will try ! " 
 
 Chabanes had spoken almost feverishly; now he 
 cast his eyes downward and did not reply. 
 
 " And now let us return," continued the prince ; 
 " to-morrow, you know, you are again lord and mas-
 
 A HUSBAND AND A FRIEND 1 09 
 
 ter of Champigny. When I return I am sure of 
 bringing your welcome to the court. The queen- 
 mother is at present rather disposed to grant favors 
 to the house of Bourbon. As it is, I cannot help 
 being thankful that you are not yet persona grata 
 in Paris, since Champigny and Victoire would lose 
 you."
 
 X 
 
 A VOLUME AND AN APOSTASY 
 
 AS summer waned into autumn and autumn 
 lengthened into winter, the Comte de Chabanes 
 continued his arduous fight against that terribly eager 
 yearning that always accompanies a great passion, 
 the desire to express it. By night he writhed in the 
 agony of combat with the seemingly invincible temp- 
 tation to throw himself on his knees before his heart's 
 mistress and pour out the love that threatened to 
 consume him should it be much longer restrained. 
 By day he struggled fiercely with the desire to fly 
 from her presence and spare himself the dishonor of 
 infidelity to his friend, even at the expense of sacri- 
 ficing his promise to remain at Champigny. Doubt- 
 less, had Victoire offered Chabanes the slightest 
 grounds on which to base the hope that she could 
 ever consciously regard him as other than a most 
 trusted and faithful friend, he must have at once 
 yielded in despair. The princess, however, by her 
 every word and action unconsciously held him off, or 
 rather, helped him to control himself; for her attitude 
 toward him was constantly and distinctly that of an 
 admiring and trustful friend, innocent of any deeper 
 interest. Her gratitude was deep and her affection 
 warm, and never were brother and sister on more
 
 A VOLUME AND AN APOSTASY ill 
 
 intimate and sympathetic terms. Indeed her very 
 kindness often served to augment the count's suffer- 
 ings beyond the endurance point, and he was com- 
 pelled several times to leave her abruptly, offering 
 the first excuse that suggested itself to his distracted 
 mind. 
 
 The Due de Guise did not diminish in favor with 
 the princess as a subject of conversation. Chabanes, 
 feeling how keen was Victoire's pleasure in discours- 
 ing of and listening to the young duke's praise, 
 stifled his jealousy and sought in every way possible 
 to add to the happiness of his heart's mistress. Time 
 and again, however, he was on the point of betraying 
 such emotion as that against which he had warned 
 the prince. 
 
 One gloomy February day the count and Victoire 
 decided to spend the evening before the fireplace 
 in the great hall. Their conversation at first was 
 unusually spirited and merry, shafts of flashing wit 
 breaking themselves in rapid succession against shields 
 of brilliant repartee. At length, when they had 
 wearied themselves with laughing, Victoire proposed 
 that they read aloud, producing at the same time a 
 small and apparently new book. Chabanes remarked 
 that the volume bore the name of R6my Belleau, the 
 celebrated poet of Catherine de Me"dicis's " Pleiades." 
 
 The book contained several hundred lines of indif- 
 ferent verse, and the count, though he execrated the 
 poetry of the period, read it aloud with the best 
 expression he could command. It told the story of 
 the amours of a great lady with a lord who for years 
 successfully diverted the jealousy of his mistress'
 
 112 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 husband, until the death of the latter permitted the 
 loving pair to marry, which, in the poem, they did 
 with all haste. Victoire displayed a keen interest in 
 this story, a circumstance that greatly disquieted the 
 count, who considered the poem a worse than worth- 
 less bit of frivolity. It was sufficiently character- 
 istic of the tastes of the profligate court, and the 
 more pernicious and jocular portions had been 
 carefully marked. When the count had finished 
 reading, Victoire demanded, " Well, what do you 
 think of it?" 
 
 " It possesses some interest, no merit as to form, 
 and is most pernicious in its trend." 
 
 " W T hy do you think it pernicious, Raoul?" 
 
 " Because it condones the most flagrant infidelity, 
 and dishonesty instead of truth triumphs in the end," 
 replied the count, with conviction. 
 
 " But it is all so amusing," insisted Victoire. 
 
 " That is exactly where the demoralizing effect of 
 the poem gains its advantage," replied Raoul. " One 
 is led to laugh at the most serious matters in the 
 world, and to regard with derision and levity the most 
 sacred of conventions." 
 
 "Why, I had no idea you were such a moralist, 
 Raoul ! " exclaimed the princess. " M. de Guise, in 
 speaking of the book, assured me that it was one of 
 the most popular that have been published in France 
 for years." 
 
 Chabanes turned very white, but did not reply for 
 several moments. At length, " Did M. de Guise send 
 you this book?" he asked. 
 
 Victoire nodded without looking at him. She was
 
 A VOLUME AND AN APOSTASY 113 
 
 scarcely thinking of his question. She did not note 
 his emotion, his seriousness, his anger. At length he 
 continued in a low, studied tone, " Victoire, you must 
 be careful of M. de Guise." 
 
 " Careful ? " repeated she, in a tone of wonder. 
 
 " Yes. Too great an interest in him may some time 
 prove very dangerous." 
 
 She was about to interrupt again, but he anticipated 
 her. 
 
 " He is an ambitious and accomplished courtier, and 
 all that that implies. However, you do not know the 
 court of France, Victoire, or you would hesitate long 
 before you placed great trust in one that occupies a 
 high place there. Do you think that Charles would 
 relish the fact that his former rival and openly avowed 
 enemy sent you such a book as this ? " 
 
 Raoul paused to note well the effect of his words. 
 He was not afraid to tread on dangerous ground, but 
 it hurt him beyond measure to inflict pain on Vic- 
 toire. She had listened to him in apparent wonder, 
 as though she scarcely believed her ears. 
 
 " Why, Raoul," she said, with strained gentleness, 
 "what makes you say such things? M. de Guise is 
 a Christian gentleman, the acknowledged head of the 
 great Catholic Church of France. How could such 
 a man be dangerous except as an enemy to wrong 
 and ignominy? Charles, my husband, has forgiven 
 M. de Guise the act of youthful impulse that for a 
 time separated them, and he would not be so petty 
 as to object to his wife receiving respectful attention 
 from the first gentleman of France." 
 
 " Ah, but the danger, Victoire, lies in the proneness 
 
 8
 
 114 A PARF1T GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 to forget one's duty to another in such an admiration 
 as you profess for M. de Guise." 
 
 Victoire did not speak for several minutes. 
 " Raoul," she asked, thoughtfully, at length, " how 
 much do you think Charles cares for me ? " 
 
 Chabanes eagerly grasped the opportunity to bend 
 the conversation to his own purpose. " He esteems 
 you above all women," he replied warmly. "You 
 could scarcely have a more profound admirer." 
 
 "Yet he does not love me," said Victoire, in a 
 tone of conviction. 
 
 " Perhaps not as some men would love," admitted 
 Raoul ; " but in his own true way he holds you very 
 dear." 
 
 " I have always tried hard to do all my duty by 
 him, Raoul ; I have tried to be in all senses his wife 
 to preside over his household as he would like 
 me to, and all that, you know. Of course I did not 
 have to marry him, I suppose; I might have left 
 France or gone into a convent, or something. But, 
 as I did marry him, I felt it my simple duty to try 
 to be in every way his wife." 
 
 She paused again and'meditatively regarded the fire. 
 Chabanes, unable to find his desired words, was silent. 
 
 Presently she spoke again. " Men love differently, 
 do they not, Raoul? You have never told me if you 
 have ever loved any one I do not believe you ever 
 have. When a man like you conceives a fancy for 
 anything, be it falcon or horse or woman, he does 
 not sleep until he gets it; am I not right? No 
 answer, Sir Modesty? Satisfy my curiosity by tell- 
 ing me how you would love a woman ! "
 
 A VOLUME AND AN APOSTASY 115 
 
 She looked at Chabanes with an air of mock defi- 
 ance, as though challenging him to a duel of wit, and 
 she was at a loss to understand his seriousness. He 
 was very pale, and she feared she had hurt him by 
 touching some old wound the existence of which had 
 been concealed from her. 
 
 " If I were to love a woman, Victoire," he said, 
 with forced calmness, after a moment's hesitation, " I 
 would make her happiness the sole object of my life ; 
 I would spare no sacrifice within honor to bring her 
 all pleasures; I would defend her from all harm as 
 savagely as a tigress defends her cubs; I would 
 spend my days in attempting to anticipate her every 
 desire. And if I might have this woman for my 
 wife, and have her love equal to my own, I would 
 teach her to help me by every thought and act of 
 our commingled lives to attempt the expression of 
 my infinite gratitude to the God that had so incom- 
 parably blessed us. 
 
 " Dull hearts, weary with the tedium of all that 
 makes life hopelessly melancholy, exhausted by the 
 long chains of failures, griefs, and disappointments 
 that constitute the strands of a galling existence, 
 little by little sink into the tombs of themselves. 
 Often when they seem to have gone so deep in their 
 despair that no power in heaven or on earth can 
 lift them up, the strong hand of Love holds forth to 
 raise them above the tallest pinnacles of their latent 
 ideals. As Aurora gilds the cloud-gates of the dawn 
 with celestial fire, so the enchantments of love illu- 
 mine the mists of melancholy with the effulgence of 
 hope, and what was erstwhile gloom transmutes itself
 
 Il6 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 to gorgeous splendor. The sluggish pulses of the 
 soul are quickened into leaping torrents of divine 
 passion ; despair's deep roots are fiercely torn from 
 waking hearts which afterwards show no trace or scar ; 
 the weary spirit rises from the dust and mire of aim- 
 lessness to soar toward gleaming mountain-tops afar, 
 borne on the sturdy, buoyant wings of hope. Lonely, 
 lonely souls find solace in the sweet sympathy of 
 yearning mates; a thousand crushing fardels lose 
 their weight, and birdlike vanish in the distant air. 
 Love is God's messenger; the word he bears is 
 worth the wealth of all eternity. Hand in hand, 
 heart to heart, lips to lips, while pulses leap and 
 warm cheeks glow, and souls commingle in love's 
 ecstasy, we read the secret of the universe, the word 
 of Heaven, the very thoughts of God ! " 
 
 The count paused breathless. Victoire, leaning 
 forward in her chair, with parted lips and heaving 
 bosom, was drinking in his eager words. 
 
 " Raoul," she cried, " what a noble man you 
 are ! " 
 
 Chabanes' color increased. He crushed the rising 
 tumult within his breast and continued more calmly. 
 
 " In all things, Victoire, God reveals himself to us, 
 but should we be without love we may yet be incred- 
 ulous. But when He has blessed us with a portion 
 of His very Divinity and shared with us the great 
 secret of the universe, there can be no doubt. Think, 
 Victoire, what a heaven love can make of this earth, 
 when two beings may live entirely through each 
 other in the completest sympathy and may pass 
 their lives together in the furtherance of His divine
 
 A VOLUME AND AN APOSTASY 1 17 
 
 will and the daily endeavor to approach a little nearer 
 to the steps of His throne." 
 
 The princess stood at his side, her hand resting 
 trustfully in his, which trembled with the violence of 
 his emotion. " My friend ! " she said, again and again, 
 infinite pride and affection permeating her tone. 
 
 Conscience-stricken, he shrank beneath her words. 
 " How she would loathe me," he thought, " if she 
 knew that every word I utter is secretly addressed to 
 her, the wife of my friend and the woman that has 
 implicitly given me all her trust ! " More terribly 
 than ever was he consumed by the old desire to fall 
 at her feet and acknowledge his passion, tell her of 
 the fierce, wild fire that burned in his soul and that 
 nothing could ever relieve but its fullest expression. 
 He gathered his strength to fight the fearful battle, 
 and by sheer will-force replaced the desire with a 
 resolve to use this opportunity for the furthering of 
 his friend's felicity. He thought again of the book 
 that Guise had been so unprincipled as to place in the 
 princess' hands, and he was filled with indignation. 
 
 " And, now," he said, with strenuous deliberation, 
 " I am going to tell you how a woman ought to love 
 a man to whom she is married." 
 
 The princess flushed hotly at these words, foresee- 
 ing her first rebuke from his lips. Chabanes did not 
 hesitate. 
 
 " A true woman should cleave to him that she has 
 sworn to cherish, with all the determination and 
 strength that her heart and soul can muster. She 
 should make it her constant endeavor to crush out of 
 her life every interest that is not his. She should
 
 I 1 8 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 repulse every thought that rebels against his right- 
 ful place in her affections as she would repel the 
 dishonorable advances of an unprincipled suitor. 
 All her life should be unequivocally devoted to her 
 domestic relations, so that not the slightest dis- 
 loyalty of thought can ever creep into her mind, 
 for it is the mental infidelity that always precedes 
 dishonor and that is treachery in itself. You, Vic- 
 toire, should see in this evilly marked volume only 
 that which passes the bounds of chivalry and is 
 indicative of ungodly design. If your conscience 
 fails to teach you that its purpose is base and that 
 your duty to your religion and your God, as well as 
 to your husband, should cause you to despise it, then 
 you need to fall on your knees and pray to the Holy 
 Virgin to protect you from impending evil. You, 
 Victoire, are married to a man infinitely superior to 
 all those among whom he is thrown, a man whose 
 courage, principle, and devotion to duty are unsur- 
 passed. He loves you with all the intensity of his 
 sensitive nature, yearns for your affection and sym- 
 pathy, and offers you all his thoughts, his hopes, and 
 his life. And you do not appreciate ; you make no 
 effort to realize his worth; you see only his faults, 
 which you should overlook, and you pass over his 
 virtues, which you should magnify an hundredfold. 
 How do you ' try to be his wife ' ? With all the 
 strength you can control ? By devoting to his happi- 
 ness your every moment? By giving him all your 
 prayers, resolutions, and ambitions? Ah, Victoire, 
 can you not see the duty that lies plain before you? 
 Can you not realize that you must encompass every
 
 A VOLUME AND AN APOSTASY 119 
 
 act of your life with the utmost carefulness ? Do you 
 not realize that your life and your thought belong 
 wholly to your husband, even as his devotion and 
 fidelity should be all yours?" 
 
 He paused and cast down his eyes sadly. At his 
 first words the princess had risen in evident indigna- 
 .tion; his earnest determination and evident unselfish 
 sincerity, however, had deterred her from interrupt- 
 ing. When his admonitions were addressed directly 
 to herself she sank back in her chair, pale and 
 dejected. Before he had finished, a torrent of tears 
 welled over her dark lashes down her white cheeks, 
 and now she lay sobbing disconsolately. 
 
 At sight of her misery Chabanes trembled as with 
 the ague. He dared not continue for fear his bursting 
 heart, wrung by the sight of the suffering he had 
 caused the woman he loved better than his own soul, 
 would force him to fall at her feet and confess his 
 passion. He dared not look at her, and would have 
 gladly stopped his ears that the sound of her sobs, 
 which pierced him through and through, might not 
 reach him. 
 
 For some moments she lay weeping and wretched. 
 Then she arose and went to his side, knelt at his feet 
 and, taking his hand in both of hers, kissed it 
 despairingly. 
 
 " Ah, Raoul," she moaned, as her hot tears fell on 
 his trembling hand, " how cruelly you humiliate me ! 
 What a monster I must seem to you ! What an 
 ingrate ! How dishonored ! Have a little pity on 
 me. Tell me I am not what you seem to consider 
 me, that you still respect, honor, care for me."
 
 I2O A PARFIT GEN TIL KNIGHT 
 
 Chabanes uttered a wild cry of despair. He was 
 on his feet in an instant, had lifted her from the floor, 
 and had clasped her in his arms. There she re- 
 mained, her beautiful head on his breast, as he madly 
 kissed away her tears. 
 
 " I love you, Victoire," he said, again and again, 
 his heart throbbing with intense joy at the thought 
 that she had cared so much for his respect and regard 
 and at the sight of her tear-stained face as, uncon- 
 sciously, she responded to his passionate kisses. 
 
 Then remorse seized him and he placed her in the 
 chair, kneeling beside her, and in desperation pressing 
 the hem of her gown to his lips. For moments that 
 seemed hours neither spoke. At length, when the 
 storm had sufficiently cleared away for both to realize 
 fully the import of what had occurred, they were 
 overtaken with intense despair. Chabanes staggered 
 to his seat and sat with his head bowed on his folded 
 arms in apparent lethargy. Victoire, overcome with 
 grief, watched him. At length she attempted to 
 speak, but he interrupted her. 
 
 " Ah, it is useless for you to speak, Victoire," he 
 said, bitterly. " You will remind me that you are the 
 Princesse de Montpensier and that I am simply Raoul 
 de la Tour dTvoire, Comte de Chabanes, who has 
 just thrown away his sole possessions, the confidence 
 of his friends and his honor. You will tell me that 
 you have trusted me implicitly, that you have never 
 given me the slightest grounds for a belief in any 
 disposition on your part toward gallantry, but that, 
 on the contrary, you have often assured me that the 
 memory of your interest in M. de Guise is such
 
 
 CHABANES HAD LIFTED HER FROM THE FLOOR
 
 A VOLUME AND AN APOSTASY 121 
 
 that, though half-forgotten, it will prevent your ever 
 caring for unusual admiration from any one. And, 
 last of all, you will recall to me that I depend for 
 my very life on the friendship of your husband. I 
 have sinned beyond pardon, yet I beg of you to 
 spare me." 
 
 Victoire regarded Chabanes sorrowfully. 
 
 " Raoul," she said, with only sadness in her voice, 
 " let us forget all but the sincerity of your admonition 
 to me to-night You shall always remain my best 
 and truest friend, ever ready to assist me in know- 
 ing and performing my duty. Of what may be pain- 
 ful and unprofitable to us let us never again speak. 
 Now give me your hand, my dear friend, and say 
 good-night. I will send some one to you." 
 
 She passed silently out into the corridor. 
 
 For some minutes Chabanes remained motionless. 
 He realized keenly that he had forgotten his resolves, 
 his friend, and his own honor, and in a momentary 
 impulse undone what all his life could never repair. 
 He smiled grimly as he thought of the way his own 
 actions had belied the advice he had so earnestly 
 offered Victoire. He regarded himself as despicable, 
 loathsome, dishonored. He wished she had rather 
 cast him from her with reproaches than offered him 
 her sympathy and forgiveness. The very knowledge 
 that she had wept when she feared that she had lost 
 his respect, and that she had unconsciously exhibited 
 an affection for him such as he had never dared 
 expect, heightened for the moment his anguish and 
 his sense of guilt, till he moaned in agony. Presently 
 a hand was laid gently on his, and glancing up he saw
 
 122 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 Antoinette kneeling beside his chair. Her face was 
 wet with tears of sympathy. 
 
 Chabanes sprang hastily to his feet. " Antoinette," 
 he cried, almost fiercely, " how long have you been 
 here?" 
 
 " I entered this moment, Monsieur," was the 
 trembling reply. " Madame said that you were not 
 well, and sent me to ask if you desired anything." 
 
 " Send Francois to my apartments ; that will be all 
 for to-night, thank you," he replied, with a sigh of 
 relief. 
 
 " I shall need no valet but Hercules to-night," said 
 the count, when Francois appeared. " Bring the dog 
 here as soon as he has been fed." 
 
 Hercules greeted his master with the usual affec- 
 tion, but his caresses became less ardent when he 
 noticed the coldness with which they were received. 
 To gain the attention of the preoccupied count, he 
 barked plaintively. 
 
 " Resolutions are vain, idle things, are they not, 
 Hercules?" said Chabanes, sorrowfully, letting his 
 hand rest on the brute's head. " A year ago we 
 made them lightly and confidently; we would have 
 staked our lives on their solidity. A single word has 
 sufficed to dissipate them. Shall we make others, 
 only to break them in the same manner?" 
 
 He paced the floor wearily. Hercules, after fol- 
 lowing him back and forth several times, aban- 
 doned this futile pursuit and sat down in a corner 
 of the room anxiously regarding his inattentive 
 master. 
 
 "There is only one way for it now," Chabanes
 
 A VOLUME AND AN APOSTASY 12$ 
 
 said, presently. " Our lives are worthless unless we 
 may find an opportunity to offer them for others. Let 
 us resolve to seek such opportunities. Are you 
 willing?" 
 
 Hercules bounded to his master's side, yelping 
 joyously. 
 
 " Then it is agreed," said Chabanes, smiling 
 gloomily. "And now, Heaven speed our first 
 opportunity ! "
 
 XI 
 
 A PLOT AND A WARNING 
 
 MONTPENSIER, on leaving Champigny, went 
 directly to Paris, where the Catholic princes 
 were assembling in preparation for a renewal of 
 hostilities against the Huguenots. By the twenty- 
 eighth of September the flower of French Protestant- 
 ism, including the Amiral de Coligny, the Prince 
 de Conde, Jeanne d'Albret, Queen of Navarre, and 
 her son who was destined later to rule France as 
 Henri IV., were all assembled at La Rochelle. 
 
 March first, 1569, Montpensier and the Due de Guise 
 were with their men at Fontenay-le-Comte, twenty 
 odd leagues from Champigny. The hatred between 
 these two men was continually increasing, because 
 of the jealousy the military exploits of each caused 
 the other. Montpensier could never forget that Guise 
 had once offered him a public insult, nor could Guise 
 forget that the prince was the husband of Victoire, 
 and his successful rival. On the night of the first 
 of March there were assembled in Guise's conical 
 tent three men, each of a different nationality. They 
 were seated on camp-stools around a drum, on the 
 head of which they were playing at dice. Their 
 conversation for some time was not spirited, and 
 interest in the game was lagging, until finally one, a
 
 A PLOT AND A WARNING 12$ 
 
 handsome young man whose voice and features be- 
 trayed his Saxon blood, remarked, "Your pardon, 
 M. le Due, but do you not share my own weariness 
 at this protracted inaction?" 
 
 The duke laughed patronizingly at the young man's 
 impatient tone. " It seems a pity for you, Mon^ 
 sieur," he said, " that you should have come from 
 England merely for an opportunity to fight, and that 
 you should be compelled to wait so impatiently." 
 
 " Monsieur will not have to wait long now, I 
 prophesy," declared the third player, whose accent 
 was distinctly German and whom we may at once 
 acknowledge to be Guise's unscrupulous retainer, 
 Besme. " M. le Prince de Montpensier is said to 
 have received a message from the Due d'Anjou that 
 an engagement is probable within the fortnight." 
 
 Guise's brow contracted at this last remark. 
 
 " M. de Montpensier stands high in favor, then?" 
 said the Englishman. "I had scarcely heard of him 
 in England." 
 
 " Nor we in France, M. Warden," replied Besme, 
 with a shrug. "We know nothing of his present 
 witchery over the Due d'Anjou." 
 
 " And does he not stand in similar favor with M. 
 de Guise?" asked Warden, glancing at the duke. 
 
 The latter instantly appeared to be greatly ab- 
 sorbed in the dice. " I have thrown double-six, as 
 you see, M. Warden," he said, gaily, as he swept the 
 coins from the drum-head into a large wallet. " We 
 must hope for your bettered fortune on the next 
 throw." 
 
 The Englishman did not pursue his inquiries.
 
 126 A PARFIT GENT2L KNIGHT 
 
 Since joining the Catholic forces he had on several 
 occasions been thrown with Montpensier, whom he 
 had been compelled to admire as a director of mar- 
 tial movements. The prince had been modestly 
 attempting experiments in discipline, based on the 
 ideas perfected by the Protestant leader Coligny, 
 and though many disparaged the innovation, Warden 
 was one of the few that were enthusiastic in its 
 favor. On this account Montpensier's interest had 
 been aroused in the Englishman, who was reported 
 to be of high rank and travelling under an assumed 
 name. 
 
 Guise was the first to speak again. " M. Warden," 
 he said, lightly, "you have never told us what led 
 you to seek distraction in the French camp. Inform 
 us, that we may know how to secure more such faith- 
 ful soldiers and agreeable companions." 
 
 " My reasons are simple," replied the Englishman ; 
 " I am a good Catholic and a lover of adventure. 
 Besides, I have served in the armies of England, and 
 I can imagine no more pleasant study than a com- 
 parative one of the soldiery of different countries." 
 
 " Surely no one could ask more creditable reasons, 
 Monsieur. And what have you found of interest 
 among our French warriors?" 
 
 " Things innumerable ; for instance, I have lately 
 studied with great diversion the disciplinary experi- 
 ments of M. de Montpensier." 
 
 "They are doubtless attractive," replied Guise, 
 dryly. His desire to avoid the subject of the prince 
 was quite evident. " And what do you say to the 
 inquisitive here who ask if the rumors of your more
 
 A PLOT AND A WARNING 
 
 than common birth and your concealed identity are 
 not without foundation ? " 
 
 " M. le Due," exclaimed Warden, in his turn sud- 
 denly absorbed in the dice, " I also have thrown 
 double-six and by so doing I win your doubled stake. 
 And now, if you will permit, I shall retire, for the 
 night air has made me sleepy. I wonder greatly 
 that you should have preferred the openness of a 
 tent to the more satisfactory shelter of a roof these 
 crisp nights." 
 
 " We shall soon have rigors more serious," replied 
 Guise, not appearing to notice the Englishman's 
 evasion. " I confess that I have come under the 
 same influence that you describe. Good-night and 
 pleasant dreams, Monsieur," he added, as the latter 
 politely bowed himself out. 
 
 " Good-night, Messieurs," replied Warden, starting 
 toward his own tent. When he had reached its 
 door his hand fell on his dagger-sheath and he dis- 
 covered that the latter was empty. He retraced 
 his steps to the duke's tent, where he scratched on 
 the door-flap by way of attracting the occupants' 
 attention. 
 
 Guise and Besme were conversing in rather excited 
 tones, and they evidently did not notice the English- 
 man's signal, for he heard the former exclaim with 
 characteristic petulance, " I tell you we must rid 
 ourselves of Montpensier ! " 
 
 Warden was astounded to hear such a remark con- 
 cerning the prince fall from the lips of a fellow com- 
 mander. He resolved to listen further and ascertain 
 whether treachery was actually being plotted.
 
 128 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 " But we dare not kill him," expostulated Besme. 
 " The power of his house at court is constantly in- 
 creasing, and he is too highly valued as a soldier not 
 to be avenged at any price, even by the king himself." 
 
 "To the devil with your old woman's caution, 
 Besme ! " was the heated reply. " Is there no 
 way to kill the man, then, but in public fight or 
 by assassination?" 
 
 "Do you mean poison, Monseigneur?" 
 
 " Nom de Dieu ! No, idiot ! Listen ; in a short 
 time there must be a battle. Montpensier will ride 
 at the head of his men. He will charge the enemy. 
 There will be great confusion, in which it will be next 
 to impossible to distinguish friend from foe. On this 
 account you will make a serious though pardonable 
 mistake. You will ride close to Montpensier and, in 
 the impression that he is a Huguenot, of course, you 
 will pierce him with your sword. There; you see 
 how simple it is, after all ! " 
 
 There was a momentary silence ; at length Besme 
 said, " And if I succeed in this enterprise?" 
 
 " You shall have whatever you ask." 
 
 " Agreed ! " cried Besme, exultantly. " And this 
 is the price I shall ask : that you will give me your 
 sanction in my revenge on one that has done me a 
 deadly injury." 
 
 " And who is this enemy, Besme ? " 
 
 " The Comte de Chabanes." 
 
 Guise was silent for a moment. " Chabanes is a 
 man of resources and courage, as you well know," 
 he said. " However, I will promise to sanction his 
 assassination if you accomplish the other."
 
 A PLOT AND A WARNING I2Q 
 
 " Then give me an order in writing, Monseigneur, 
 and your will shall be done." 
 
 "Always writing, Besme?" grumbled the duke. 
 "Have you no faith in my loyalty to my servants? 
 Have I ever failed you in time of peril ? " 
 
 " I have never undertaken so grave a service, Mon- 
 seigneur. You are all-powerful, while I am helpless 
 without your favor. It might happen that, in the 
 preoccupation of war, your humble and insignificant 
 servitor might be forgotten. And I confess that I 
 have never had the least hankering for the dungeon, 
 the torture, and the Place de Greve." 
 
 " But I give you my word, Besme." 
 
 " Which I should be the last person in the world to 
 doubt; still, a word of yours on paper will do no 
 harm, and will suffice to recall me to you in the event 
 of peril to myself." 
 
 Guise muttered inaudibly to himself and, taking a 
 sheet of paper from a chest, he placed it on the 
 drum-head. For several minutes he held his pen 
 balanced reflectively in his hand. Then, as though 
 seized with a sudden idea, he wrote several lines 
 which he signed with a colorless liquid in a small 
 bottle that he took from the camp-chest. 
 
 Besme read the paper to himself. " But there is 
 no signature," he said, with surprise. " The order is 
 valueless." 
 
 " The signature, my friend," replied the duke, " is 
 there. You cannot see it because it is written with a 
 peculiar sort of ink prepared especially for me by 
 Maitre Rene, the Florentine." (At the name of Rene 
 the German crossed himself devoutly.) " If you will 
 
 9
 
 130 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 hold the paper near to the flame of this torch, you 
 will see the signature appear." 
 
 Incredulously the German approached the paper 
 to the flame and, to his extreme amazement, saw 
 appear in a few seconds the distinctly formed word 
 " Guise." 
 
 " The paper's value is to you alone," continued the 
 duke ; " should I forget you in time of peril and you 
 be compelled to make use of it, you have only to 
 hold it close to a flame and the result will be as you 
 have seen. In the meantime, as you perceive, the 
 signature has faded away, and were the paper to be 
 lost, it could prove of no value to the finder. Few 
 persons know of the existence of this remarkable ink, 
 nor," he added, mentally, " that it vanishes for all 
 time within forty-eight hours." 
 
 The Englishman scratched loudly on the tent flap. 
 Both the duke and Besme sprang to their feet and 
 rushed outside. 
 
 " Ah, it is you, Monsieur ! " exclaimed the former, 
 when he had recognized Warden. " Is there any- 
 thing amiss?" 
 
 " I have left my poniard in your tent, M. le Due, 
 and have just returned to seek it," said the English- 
 man, in a tone of simplicity that reassured both Guise 
 and Besme. 
 
 The poniard was recovered and Warden again bade 
 the others good-night and left the tent. Fearing 
 that he might be watched, he returned directly to 
 his own, and after assuring himself that Guise and 
 Besme had retired, he lighted a candle and took from 
 his camp-chest a sheet of paper, on which, disguising
 
 A PLOT AND A WARNING 131 
 
 his hand-writing as much as possible, he wrote as 
 follows : 
 
 " A plot has been arranged whereby the servant of 
 one in high position is to kill M. de Montpensier 
 during the confusion of the next engagement." 
 
 Montpensier was seated alone in his tent studying 
 some maps that were unrolled on his knee, when 
 suddenly, as though from a gust of wind, the tent- 
 flap blew open and a scrap of paper fluttered in. 
 He picked it up and read with astonishment the note 
 the Englishman had written. 
 
 Alone in his tent the latter, after having cautiously 
 ascertained that he was securely fastened in, drew 
 from his doublet a small package of papers. He 
 unrolled them and spread them one after another on 
 his knee; they were rude maps and specifications, 
 together with a considerable quantity of notes. After 
 an hour spent in thoughtful study the Englishman 
 took a blank sheet of paper from the chest at his side 
 and indited a brief but laborious letter. It was ad- 
 dressed to M. le Prince de Cond6. When he had 
 read the letter several times, the Englishman hurriedly 
 signed and sealed it. The name he wrote at the foot 
 of the page, however, was not Warden. Instead, it 
 was a name that was destined to become some years 
 later one of the foremost in England and, eventually, 
 in the history of the world. " Ralph Warden " was a 
 Huguenot spy.
 
 XII 
 
 AN ANXIETY AND A SUBTERFUGE 
 
 / "Tp v HE morning after his impulsive avowal of love 
 * to Victoire, Chabanes arose from his restless 
 bed, heavy-hearted with a weight of grief and remorse 
 that was almost beyond endurance. In the hall he 
 met Victoire, radiant and smiling. She gave him 
 her hand spontaneously and confidently, and though 
 he was impelled to hang his head in shame, rallied 
 him merrily on many frivolous subjects, so that he 
 soon almost forgot that there had ever been any 
 yesternight. They spent the morning in reading and 
 singing. In the afternoon they conversed as usual 
 on a variety of topics. Victoire gave the count her 
 implicit confidence in all things, evidently with the 
 design of assuring him that his conduct of the pre- 
 ceding night had been entirely forgiven. Naturally, 
 she succeeded only in increasing the agony the 
 count was compelled by his passion and his remorse 
 to endure. He resolved, however, to bear his own 
 sufferings patiently and to conceal them always from 
 the princess, for he felt that even so terrible a 
 penance could never compensate for the wrong he 
 had done. 
 
 Time and again he renewed his resolve that, since 
 he had vitiated his power to advise his friend's wife
 
 AN ANXIETY AND A SUBTERFUGE 133 
 
 in her duty, by failing in his own, he would devote 
 his life to the protection of her reputation and her 
 honor in every possible way. 
 
 Toward seven o'clock that evening a strange 
 courier arrived at Champigny. The message he 
 bore was brought into the great hall by Antoinette. 
 Chabanes received it and glanced at the address. 
 
 " It is from Charles," he said, in response to Vic- 
 toire's inquiring glance. 
 
 " To whom is it addressed?" 
 
 "Tome." 
 
 Victoire sighed. " What has Charles to say ? " 
 
 The count had broken the seal and had hastily 
 glanced over the letter. 
 
 It said : 
 
 DEAREST RAOUL, The enclosed warning that has just 
 come to me, together with a strange dream that has been re- 
 curring frequently of late, has filled me with an unaccountable 
 apprehension of impending evil, perhaps death. I could 
 not rest until I had told you of this warning and my feeling. 
 Possibly it is all imaginary, but it appears most vividly real. 
 In the event of any casualty, you know, I intrust Victoire 
 to you as I always have done. Do not needlessly alarm 
 her about me though I doubt me if my loss would be 
 much to her but, should I be killed, give her my farewell 
 kiss and guard her as carefully as you have hitherto done. 
 In any event, with my dearest affection, I am ever yours. 
 
 Au revoir. CHARLES. 
 
 Chabanes had not time to read the inclosure be- 
 fore replying to Victoire's question, so he folded 
 the two sheets of paper together and placed them in 
 his doublet.
 
 134 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 " Charles is not ill. There is a ' likelihood of an- 
 other engagement with Conde before long." 
 
 The princess did not inquire further as to the con- 
 tents of the letter. Chabanes excused himself a trifle 
 earlier that evening and retired to his apartments, to 
 read the warning that Montpensier had mentioned 
 and to reflect on the strange apprehension that had 
 come over his friend. 
 
 During the next week the count's messengers 
 brought daily news of the movements of both the 
 Catholic and the Huguenot armies. He and Victoire 
 pricked off these movements with pins on the map 
 in the great hall, conjecturing on the plans of the 
 leaders and the probabilities as to the time and place 
 of the armies' meeting. 
 
 On March tenth the armies were nearing the river 
 Charente at a point about thirty-five leagues distant 
 from Champigny. Chabanes saw that a conflict near 
 the river was imminent and that, if the warning that 
 Montpensier had received was honest, his friend was 
 about to be placed in great danger. Chabanes knew 
 that the prince would forget his own safety at the 
 first battle trumpet, and that an assassin bold enough 
 to risk the thick of the fight could cut him down 
 from the rear with comparative ease. That evening 
 the count did not pass with Victoire. He sent her 
 word by Francois that he was a trifle indisposed, and 
 for two hours he paced the floor of his chamber, 
 mentally revolving the letter from the prince, and the 
 probabilities of his friend's danger. 
 
 " This warning, Hercules," he said to his canine com- 
 panion, " has had a strange effect on me, as well as
 
 AN ANXIETY AND A SUBTERFUGE 135 
 
 on Charles; I feel deeply concerned for one who 
 will heedlessly forget his own safety. If only I were 
 with him, I might find it within my power to avert 
 a danger which my friend, in spite of his apprehen- 
 sions, will recklessly despise. Listen to his letter, 
 Hercules, and then help me to decide on a plan of 
 action ; I cannot remain idle while my friend's life 
 is imperilled." 
 
 The count read aloud Montpensier's message. 
 " True friend ! " he exclaimed, with a sigh, when he 
 came to the lines, " In the event of any casualty, 
 you know, I intrust Victoire to you as I always have 
 done." The very sincerity of the statement pained 
 him beyond expression. " Parbleu, dog ! Is not this 
 the occasion for which we so eagerly longed ? Shall 
 we let slip this opportunity to be of service to him 
 whom we have so irreparably wronged ? Let us prove 
 that we are not wholly bad, by saving our friend 
 yes, for the enjoyment of her we love so madly ! " 
 
 Chabanes was conscious of a sense of relief in shar- 
 ing his guilt with Hercules by the use of the first 
 person plural. The dog evinced an interest in his 
 master's soliloquy that intelligently subsided when 
 the latter exclaimed : " I must go alone, old friend ; 
 battle-fields are no places for such as you. A spear- 
 thrust or the hoof of a maddened horse would de- 
 prive me of a trusty friend and a valued confidant 
 No, you and Nero must stay while I go forth to face 
 the battle, and what is perhaps more deadly, the 
 disfavor of the queen-mother. And none but you 
 shall know if I succeed, for Heaven forbid that 
 Victoire should think that I considered the deed
 
 136 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 in the light of atonement, or that Charles should 
 feel under obligations to me ! " 
 
 Chabanes, with folded arms, paced the floor for 
 some minutes. At last, with the air of one who has 
 firmly resolved on a course of action, he summoned 
 Francois and told him to prepare his cuirass and 
 riding costume. 
 
 Francois, accustomed to receive unquestioningly all 
 sorts of orders, silently obeyed. Chabanes examined 
 the joints of his cuirass, which he found in excellent 
 condition. However, he did not immediately order 
 his valet to attire him in it. Instead, he again began 
 pacing the floor, while Francois and Hercules awaited 
 his pleasure with an air of resignation. At length, 
 as though having decided a puzzling question, the 
 count said, " Francois, there is a suit of black armor in 
 the apartments of M. de Montpensier ; do you think 
 you can bring it here without being seen?" 
 
 " I am certain of it, Monsieur," replied the valet. 
 
 " Very well ; you may go for it at once." 
 
 The suit of mail that Francois brought was almost 
 a hundred years old and of a pattern somewhat out 
 of date in the reign of Charles IX. It consisted of 
 the usual complete casing of steel for body and 
 limbs, and a helmet, the letting down of whose visor 
 was the last act in shutting in the wearer from the 
 world of war. With his valet's aid the count at once 
 put on the suit, which proved an excellent fit. Then, 
 after securely chaining Hercules, who resignedly per- 
 mitted himself to be thus treated, and directing 
 Francois to follow him, he proceeded as noiselessly 
 as possible by a narrow secret staircase that Mont-
 
 AN ANXIETY AND A SUBTERFUGE 137 
 
 pensier had revealed to him alone, out into the 
 stable-yard, where he awakened one of his messenger- 
 grooms and ordered a horse saddled at once. At 
 Mirebeau, Lusignan, and Melle there were relays that 
 the messengers were accustomed to use, and Cha- 
 banes knew an inn-keeper in Saint-Jean d'Angely 
 that would gladly lend him an excellent steed. 
 
 When his horse had been brought, the count led 
 Francois and the groom aside and instructed them 
 to conceal from all the fact that he had left the 
 chateau. 
 
 " I shall probably return within the week," he said, 
 " and in the interim I leave it to you to prevent my 
 absence being known. If you succeed in doing so I 
 will give you each fifty rose nobles." 
 
 Francois helped his master to mount and the 
 groom opened the gate for him, both of them shower- 
 ing him with their blessings as he rode away to the 
 south. 
 
 At ten the following morning Victoire sent her 
 maid to ask of Francois why M. de Chabanes did not 
 descend. Antoinette returned to her mistress with 
 the statement that the count had decided to hunt that 
 morning and had left the chateau at an early hour. 
 In the afternoon Frangois came to say that his master 
 had returned very tired and would remain in bed till 
 the following morning. 
 
 The princess, having noted that of late the count, 
 still suffering from his emotion of the past fortnight, 
 was often disposed to avoid her, dismissed this de- 
 cision without further thought. She sent to ask if 
 there was anything she could do to render Chabanes
 
 138 A PAR FIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 more comfortable, receiving a politely grateful reply 
 in the negative. 
 
 On the next evening, having seen nothing of the 
 count all day, she again sent to his apartments, and 
 received a reply similar to the one returned the day 
 before. Antoinette assured her mistress that the 
 faithful Francois carried the count his meals with 
 regularity, scarcely ever leaving his master's room for 
 any other purpose, and always scrupulously locking 
 the door on leaving or entering. 
 
 The next day brought the same reply to the solici- 
 tations of Victoire. Several times she sent to offer 
 her services, had delicacies innumerable taken to the 
 count's apartments, and began to evince an in- 
 credulous curiosity as to the malady with which he 
 suffered. 
 
 On the evening of the fourth day, having addressed 
 a note to Raoul, telling him how extremely lonely 
 she was without him and begging him to come down 
 if only for an hour, and having received in response 
 only an oral message from Francois that M. de 
 Chabanes was not yet feeling well enough to leave 
 his bed, Victoire resolved to make a tour of inves- 
 tigation on her own account. Accordingly, dismiss- 
 ing Antoinette and waiting till after ten, when all the 
 servants should have retired, she took a candle and 
 marched boldly up to the door of the count's bed- 
 chamber, at which she knocked determinedly. 
 
 "Who is there?" demanded Francois. 
 
 " It is I, Mme. de Montpensier." 
 
 " Have you some word I can give the count, 
 Madame?"
 
 ANXIETY AND A SUBTERFUGE 139 
 
 " My message to M. de Chabanes must be delivered 
 by myself in person and at once." 
 
 " But, Madame, begging your pardon, M. de Cha- 
 banes is quite too ill to hear anything just now. Let 
 me have the message, and as soon as he is better I 
 will give it to him." 
 
 The valet's voice trembled audibly. Summoning 
 her most dignified tone, Victoire commanded, " Open 
 me this door, insolent, or I will have you driven from 
 the house with blows ! " 
 
 Francois, terrified beyond measure, opened the 
 door slightly and thrust his pale face into the crevice 
 thus formed. 
 
 " Madame," he began, imploringly, " I beg of 
 you " 
 
 " Stand back, knave," commanded the princess, 
 placing her foot against the door so that Francois 
 could not close it again. 
 
 The poor valet did not know what to do, but as 
 Victoire pushed determinedly against the door, he 
 was compelled to stand aside and allow her to enter. 
 As he did so he fancied he heard the voice of the 
 count without, and he trembled violently in anticipa- 
 tion of the rating he would receive when his master 
 learned that his wishes had not been fulfilled. 
 
 Victoire hesitantly advanced into the room. Now 
 that she had gained her point, an entrance, she 
 was not so positive as she would have liked to be 
 that she had done quite the proper thing. The 
 count's bed, all the curtains of which were tightly 
 drawn, was in the farther end of the room. She 
 glanced scornfully at the trembling valet and ad-
 
 140 A PARFIT GEN TIL KNIGHT 
 
 vanced with all the intrepidity she could assume 
 toward the bed. When she was within a half-dozen 
 paces of it she stopped and said softly, " Raoul ! " 
 
 There was no answer, and she repeated the name 
 several times without success. She was trying to 
 muster enough courage to look behind the curtains 
 and see if the count was really there, when Francois, 
 who had edged his way to a window that opened on 
 the stable-yard, and had seen a saddled horse without, 
 divined that his master had returned ; then with a 
 gesture he attracted her attention to a number of 
 boxes and bottles that were placed on a console 
 opposite the bed. 
 
 " Your pardon, Madame," he said, " but, really, it 
 were unwise to arouse M. de Chabanes just yet. He 
 has a high fever and I have been dosing him with 
 these simple remedies which I secured in Gascony. 
 One of them has the effect of throwing one into a 
 deep sleep which, if allowed to take its course, will 
 carry the fever away with it when it passes." 
 
 The valet's expectant ear had caught a faint sound 
 that reminded him of a mailed foot on the secret 
 stair, and he raised his voice to a high key when 
 he fancied he heard the panel, that led to the stair 
 and that was situated behind the bed in a dark corner, 
 gently opened and closed. 
 
 " M. de Chabanes," he fairly shrieked, " is asleep 
 in his bed with the heavy coverings drawn tightly 
 about his throat so that he may catch no cold. I 
 am confident that after another day's rest he will 
 have fully recovered, and I firmly believe that it 
 would be wrong to disturb him just now."
 
 AN ANXIETY AND A SUBTERFUGE 141 
 
 Frangois had placed himself so that Victoire, in 
 regarding him, had her back to the bed, which he 
 watched for the faintest movement of the curtains. 
 As he paused he fancied that these latter did flutter 
 slightly, and that he could hear the swish of the 
 coverings within being arranged. Evidently none of 
 these sounds had been heard by Victoire, who, still 
 incredulous, turned resolutely toward the bed. 
 
 "At all events, M. le Medicin," she said, rather 
 sarcastically, "you need not shout so loudly, and 
 there can be no objection to my glancing in at 
 M. de Chabanes to see that all is well with him? " 
 
 Francois in uncertainty sprang forward, his hand 
 outstretched to detain her. " I beg of you, Madame 
 " he began in a tone of fright, but this time 
 Victoire was not to be thwarted. She advanced 
 resolutely to the bed and swept aside the curtain. 
 
 Francois was unable to restrain an exclamation of 
 delight as he saw within the bed, closely muffled in 
 the coverings, Chabanes, who actually appeared to 
 sleep. He had returned to Champigny with just 
 enough vitality to realize that his valet, in desperate 
 straits, was making every endeavor to inform him 
 of the situation. He had slipped cautiously into 
 bed, drawn the coverings tightly about him, and at 
 once feigned the profound sleep which Francois 
 described. 
 
 Victoire gazed on the count for a few moments. 
 The dim candle-light that penetrated the bed cur- 
 tains, which were open on the opposite side, failed 
 to reveal the dust that stained his features, which, 
 swollen and flushed with want of rest, had all the
 
 142 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 appearance of those of a fever patient. Satisfied 
 that Francois had told her the truth, she let fall 
 the curtain, and, after admonishing the valet to take 
 good care of his master and report to her hourly 
 the latter's condition, she retired to her own apart- 
 ments to relate her experience to Antoinette. 
 
 Francois immediately assisted his master in remov- 
 ing the armor and in bathing his weary limbs. Then 
 the count was carefully tucked in a fresh bed for a 
 long and much needed sleep. 
 
 The second morning after his return to Champigny, 
 Chabanes appeared in the library of the chateau with 
 his left arm in a bandage.
 
 XIII 
 
 A BATTLE AND A STRANGER 
 
 ON the morning of the thirteenth of March, two 
 days before the timely appearance of Chabanes 
 in bed at Champigny, the Huguenot army under 
 the fearless Prince de Conde", with the Amiral de 
 Coligny as his second, and the Catholic army under 
 the king's brother, the Due d'Anjou, who acted 
 under the instructions of the veterans, the Marshals 
 de Tavannes and de Biron, each army about twenty 
 thousand strong, and each anxious to face the enemy, 
 met near Jarnac, on the banks of the Charente. 
 
 In 1547, Jarnac was the scene of the last duel 
 in France that was sanctioned by the king ; and al- 
 though the great duel between these two armies 
 both fighting under the sacred banners of Religion, 
 for the most part merely to attain personal and sel- 
 fish ends has never had the sanction of God or 
 man, it was no less sanguinary, cruel, and useless, as 
 a factor in deciding the question of right and wrong, 
 than was the famous sanctioned duel between the 
 two gentlemen of France. 
 
 The royal army, reinforced by a body of German 
 mercenaries, had determined to force a battle on the 
 Protestants, who were resolved to hold the line of 
 the Charente, having destroyed the bridges over
 
 144 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 that river. Owing to the negligence of one of 
 Coligny's guards posted near Bassac, the enemy 
 were allowed to cross the river on a bridge of boats 
 during the night. Coligny first endeavored to with- 
 draw his forces, but, finding this impossible, he sent 
 at once for Conde. The battle consisted, in the first 
 place, of a surprise, and in the second, of a long 
 series of fierce skirmishes in which the Catholic 
 leaders, including Anjou, Guise, and Montpensier, at 
 the head of their troops, fought hand to hand with 
 the Protestant chiefs. 
 
 The formation of the royalists after crossing the 
 Charente was such that the main body of the army 
 being sections in command of Guise, of Anjou, 
 and of Montpensier, with Guise in the middle was 
 drawn up on a slope that overlooked the position of 
 the enemy. The Marechals de Tavannes and de 
 Biron having advised the Due d'Anjou to order a 
 sudden and concerted attack, charge after charge was 
 headed by the three young men, who so scattered the 
 enemy that the day was quickly deemed won. In 
 the third engagement Montpensier at the head of a 
 thousand halberdiers attacked a section of the Hugue- 
 nots under the famous Andelot, Coligny's brother, 
 and the most thrilling combats of the day ensued. 
 Montpensier, with a stroke of his sword severed the 
 pistol hand of the Protestant Dalvagnac, just as the 
 latter was on the point of firing at him. Andelot 
 furiously charged the skilful Martigues and, forcing 
 open the visor of his opponent's helmet with his 
 bridle hand, blew out his brains with a pistol held in 
 his left. Montpensier had two horses killed under
 
 A SOLDIER CARRIED HIM FROM THE FIELD ACROSS THE SADDLE-BOWS
 
 A BATTLE AND A STRANGER 145 
 
 him and, while mounting the third, he was attacked 
 by a Huguenot named Launay, a powerful man armed 
 with sword and pistol. In his several dismountings 
 the prince had lost his pistols, and he was compelled 
 to rely entirely on his skill in wielding the sword. 
 Launay fired ; the ball passed through the prince's 
 helmet and slightly stunned him. Launay then 
 rushed forward and met the prince with a fierce 
 onslaught with sword and dagger. The fight was furi- 
 ous for a moment, but Launay quickly displayed signs 
 of weakening. Just as Montpensier seemed on the 
 point of spitting his enemy with his sword, a man 
 attired in a nondescript uniform rode close behind 
 the prince and dealt him a terrific blow, which 
 seemed to cleave directly through the skull. Mont- 
 pensier was not killed, however, for, though he fell at 
 once, he was seen to endeavor to rise from among 
 the dead and wounded that bestrewed the field on 
 every hand. His assassin, divining his intention, 
 lifted his sword and was in the act of finishing his 
 victim, when a soldier dressed in antiquated black 
 armor rode madly into the group, dashed the sword 
 from the hand of the assassin, and with almost super- 
 human dexterity lifted the prostrate prince, and 
 carried him across the saddle-bows from the field. 
 As he did so, a man burst from the midst of the 
 conflict and rode wildly after Montpensier's rescuer; 
 but after he had gone some fifty yards, he suddenly 
 brought his horse back on its haunches, wheeled, and 
 returned to the battle. It was the Due de Guise. 
 
 The stranger in armor placed the unconscious 
 prince beneath a large tree, removed the latter's hel-
 
 146 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 met, and, finding that he was not wounded, but merely 
 stunned, left him in charge of a surgeon, and turned 
 to ride away. He had gone scarcely a hundred 
 paces when he was furiously charged by a Protestant 
 cavalier who had evidently been separated from his 
 comrades. The man in the black armor prepared 
 to receive the other's onslaught, and for a time a 
 fierce rain of blows ensued. Several times he had 
 his antagonist at a disadvantage, and then it became 
 evident that the more skilful fighter did not wish 
 to kill the other. On each of such occasions the 
 former retreated some steps and allowed his enemy 
 to recover. Thus in a short time the knight in 
 black was back at the foot of the tree where lay 
 Montpensier. 
 
 Suddenly the Protestant cavalier dropped his 
 sword-point, sprang from his horse, and knelt beside 
 the prostrate prince. This example was instantly 
 followed by the black knight who, glancing into the 
 eyes of his late opponent, drew off his gauntlet 
 and extended his hand, saying, " I also am his 
 friend." 
 
 The other grasped the proffered hand with feeling. 
 " At your service, Monsieur," he said, warmly ; " may 
 I ask your name? " 
 
 The man raised the visor of his black helmet. " I 
 am Raoul de la Tour d'lvoire, Comte de Chabanes," 
 he said, simply. 
 
 The other in response, disclosed the features of 
 the young Englishman who had warned Montpensier 
 of the plot against his life. " And I," he said, in a 
 low tone, " am an Englishman, lately a Huguenot
 
 A BATTLE AND A STRANGER 147 
 
 spy, but now my work being done an openly 
 avowed soldier of M. le Prince de Conde, by name, 
 Walter Raleigh." 
 
 They bowed politely. 
 
 " I saw you save him, Monsieur," continued 
 Raleigh, naively. " I myself had the honor of warn- 
 ing him." (Chabanes' heart warmed to his new 
 acquaintance.) "I said to myself, 'The King of 
 France should be proud of such a soldier; I will 
 learn the name and seek a means of informing his 
 Majesty.' Again I thought, ' But this gentleman is a 
 Catholic ; he is my enemy and the foe of my religion 
 as well as of my commander; moreover, he has 
 shown himself to be, by all odds, a foeman worthy of 
 my steel.' And so, I spught a combat with you, 
 Monsieur." 
 
 Chabanes smiled grimly at this unique statement. 
 " Very well, Monsieur," he replied, quietly, " since 
 you admire my style of fighting and because you 
 know my name, which in connection with this day 
 I desire to keep a secret, I shall have the honor 
 of killing you at once." 
 
 He arose and placed himself on guard, sword in 
 hand. 
 
 " Willingly ! " cried Raleigh, following Chabanes' 
 example. " But first assure me that the prince is out 
 of danger." 
 
 " He will recover very soon, I am positive, and as 
 I desire that he, of all men, should not know of my 
 presence here, I must beg you to permit me to make 
 short work of you." 
 
 Raleigh at once engaged the count's sword, saying,
 
 148 A PARFIT GENT1L KNIGHT 
 
 " In case I be the more fortunate, Monsieur, depend 
 on me to keep your secret." 
 
 "For which I shall be truly grateful," responded 
 Chabanes, grimly. 
 
 However, Destiny had prepared for both these 
 men other ends than the death each calmly and 
 firmly sought to give his opponent. Even then, in 
 the infinite, soulless, impetuous mind of fickle Fate 
 there arose a vision of western seas, of mighty deeds 
 on unknown waters, of war, adventure, and supreme 
 piracy; of spreading colonies and all-conquering 
 fame; of royal favor and of noble enmity; and, 
 last of all, of a blood-stained block and a severed 
 head brought low by the stroke of the executioner's 
 axe. 
 
 The Frenchman and the unknown English soldier 
 of fortune had been engaged but a few moments, 
 when they became aware that the tide of battle was 
 rapidly rolling in on them ; they were being hemmed 
 in on all sides. A score of combatants surrounded 
 them ; each was attacked by others, and soon they 
 were widely separated. Chabanes presently be- 
 thought himself of his helpless friend, and, retiring 
 to the tree, stationed himself beside Montpensier, 
 ready to sell his life dear. And Walter Raleigh, 
 seeking the valiant but luckless ranks of the defenders 
 of his faith, dauntlessly cut his way out of the circle 
 of his enemies and vanished from the lives of the 
 Comte de Chabanes and the Prince de Montpensier. 
 
 Skirmish after skirmish had occurred since the 
 attempted assassination of the prince. The Amiral 
 de Coligny, having sent for the Prince de Conde's
 
 A BATTLE AND A STRANGER 149 
 
 aid, saw that the tide of battle was turning against 
 him; so he despatched a second message to Conde 
 telling him to withdraw while there was yet time, 
 rather than weaken himself in a fruitless effort. 
 However, the admiral had reckoned without the 
 foolhardy bravery of Conde, for the latter sent back 
 the answer : " God forbid that Louis de Bourbon 
 should turn his back to the enemy ! " 
 
 Chabanes, waiting beneath the tree, was not long in 
 discovering that it was the charges of Conde's re- 
 inforcement that was producing the changes in the 
 direction of the battle. 
 
 However, these furious charges quickly became 
 ineffective, and Conde's little troop was soon being 
 swallowed in the overwhelming numbers of the 
 enemy. Twenty of his men, carrying their standard, 
 cut their way out of the conflict, which was now with- 
 in twenty yards of the spot where lay Montpensier, 
 but they left Conde with a crushed arm and a broken 
 leg. 
 
 His three hundred men had almost all perished in 
 the terrible charge on the eight hundred lances of 
 the Due d'Anjou, his friends were routed, and he 
 was helplessly crippled. So Chabanes saw him as, 
 inch by inch, he was driven back with the conflict. 
 An opportunity offering, Cond6 rode quickly up to 
 the tree. A pistol ball crashed through his horse's 
 throat, and he fell heavily to the ground. 
 
 In an instant Chabanes, inspired by admiration 
 for the Protestant's bravery, darted to his side and 
 succeeded in releasing his crushed limb from the 
 weight of the fallen horse. He lifted Cond6 to an
 
 150 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 upright position and dragged him to the tree, against 
 which he rested his back. 
 
 ' I surrender, Messieurs," said Conde", raising the 
 visor of his helmet and extending his gauntlets. 
 " Saint- Jean ! D'Argence ! " he cried, to two Catho- 
 lic gentlemen, who at once dismounted and came to 
 his side. 
 
 " Our lives to save yours ! " cried Chabanes, 
 brandishing his sword. Instantly Saint-Jean, and 
 D'Argence raised their weapons and swore to risk 
 their lives in defence of Cond6's. The Catholic sol- 
 diery, seeing that Conde" had surrendered, made no 
 further attack on him; but a Protestant soldier, 
 Soubise, who attempted to gain his general's side, 
 was brutally cut down. 
 
 Chabanes had had the forethought to lower the 
 visor of Montpensier's helmet as the latter lay still 
 and unconscious at Condi's feet. The sight of their 
 leader, apparently dead, might have incited Mont- 
 pensier's men to the slaughter of all those about 
 him. 
 
 As Chabanes spoke, Cond6 turned to him with a 
 grateful smile. "Were you not so brave a gentle- 
 man, Monsieur, and I not your debtor, I should be 
 tempted to laugh at the cut of your armor," he said, 
 half-sorrowfully. 
 
 Other Catholics followed the example Chabanes 
 had set, and soon the great captive was entirely sur- 
 rounded by a body of chivalrous gentlemen. In the 
 meanwhile the royal army was pursuing the remnants 
 of the Huguenot forces, and column after column 
 wheeled by the tree where Louis de Cond6 remained,
 
 A BATTLE AND A STRANGER 151 
 
 now on one knee. After a time his keen blue eye 
 perceived in the distance the crimson cloaks of the 
 Due d'Anjou's guard. Pointing to them he called 
 the attention of D'Argence. The latter turned deadly 
 pale, crying, " Hide your face, Monsieur ! " 
 
 Conde" knew as well as did every one of the gentle- 
 men who stood about him that the implacable hatred 
 of Anjou was about to be satisfied by the death 
 of the Protestant leader. Muttering a prayer of 
 resignation the captive let down his visor and awaited 
 his fate. Montesquieu, the captain of the guards, 
 had passed before he heard the name of the pris- 
 oner. " Mordioux ! " he cried in fury, " kill me that 
 heretic dog ! " 
 
 A minute later a man rode up behind the tree 
 while the attention of all was elsewhere, and aimed 
 a blow with his sword at the head of the defenceless 
 Montpensier. Luckily, Chabanes, who was still stand- 
 ing beside the prince, turned opportunely, and again 
 recognized the German assassin, Besme, from whose 
 treachery he had but an hour before rescued his 
 friend. The count sprang forward in time to ward 
 off the blow with his sword. At the same time 
 he dexterously wrenched Besme's sword from his 
 grasp and prodded the German's horse sharply; he 
 was unable to restrain a smile as the furious fel- 
 low's wounded steed carried him away at a rapid 
 pace. 
 
 Simultaneously there was a shot behind him, and 
 the count's eyes turned on one of the most cowardly 
 acts in history. Montesquieu, captain of Anjou's 
 guard, fearing lest his order to kill Conde might
 
 I $2 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 not be obeyed, had ridden back at a gallop and 
 shattered the prisoner's skull from behind. 
 
 Chabanes leapt from his horse and knelt beside 
 the prostrate form of Conde, decently composing 
 the valiant Huguenot's stiffening limbs. When he 
 arose he saw approaching rapidly a group of horse- 
 men, whom he at once recognized as gentlemen of 
 the Prince de Montpensier. Instantly the count 
 mounted his horse and retired to a spot some dis- 
 tance away, whence he observed the discovery of 
 Montpensier by the latter's gentlemen. 
 
 Satisfied that his friend was now in safety, Cha- 
 banes at once rode away by a circuitous path, and 
 so avoided an encounter with any of the gentlemen 
 that remained on the field. He picked his way care- 
 fully among the dead and wounded, until at length 
 he came up with a man that was lying face downward 
 and one of whose legs was apparently pinioned beneath 
 the carcass of a horse. 
 
 The man was moaning terribly, and the count was 
 moved to ride close to him and see if he could be 
 freed from the weight of the animal. In order to dis- 
 cover if he was wounded, Chabanes dismounted and 
 knelt beside the man ; scarcely had he done so when 
 he felt a sharp pain in his left wrist, and instantly the 
 supposed wounded man had sprung to his feet, thrown 
 himself into the count's saddle, and dashed away. 
 For the third time Chabanes recognized Besme, who 
 had evidently lain in waiting for the count as the 
 latter was leaving the field. 
 
 Chabanes instantly drew a pistol from his belt and 
 fired at the retreating German. The latter's horse
 
 A BATTLE AND A STRANGER. 153 
 
 leaped into the air and fell; this time Besme found 
 himself in reality pinned to the ground. 
 
 Chabanes took advantage of the opportunity to 
 examine the wound in his wrist; it proved to be a 
 deep scratch from a dagger, the point of which had 
 slipped between the plates of his armor. Unless the 
 weapon had been poisoned, the scratch was suffi- 
 ciently trivial. Then the count leisurely advanced 
 to where the German lay now moaning in unsimu- 
 lated pain. Besme, expecting the strange knight 
 to put him to the sword at once, was greatly sur- 
 prised when the latter, instead, contented himself 
 with calmly gazing at his would-be assassin through 
 the bars of his closed visor. 
 
 " Monsieur," implored the German, weakly, " I 
 know not who you are nor what perverse fortune 
 continually throws you in my path, but I entreat you 
 to spare my life and to help me to crawl from be- 
 neath this weight that is crushing me." 
 
 Chabanes reflected a moment and, at length, plac- 
 ing the staff of a broken halberd beneath the body 
 of the horse, succeeded in raising the latter so that 
 the German was enabled to draw out his badly 
 bruised limb. The count turned Besme over with 
 his mailed foot, and drawing his sword placed its 
 point at the German's throat. 
 
 "The next time we meet, M. de Besme," he 
 said, disguising his voice, " one of us shall die." 
 
 The German trembled with terror. The voice was 
 strangely familiar to him. He almost began to be- 
 lieve that he had to deal with a spirit from the 
 nether world, and no living man.
 
 154 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 Chabanes sheathed his sword and moved away, 
 leaving the German beside the body of the horse. 
 Presently the count found an animal that, unwounded, 
 had lost its rider. He mounted it and rode off to 
 the north.
 
 XIV 
 
 AN ENCOUNTER AND A RECEPTION 
 
 THREE months and a half after the battle of 
 Jarnac the Due d'Anjou, accompanied by the 
 Due de Guise and an escort of forty cavaliers, was 
 returning to Loches from Luynes, whither they 
 had gone to inspect some new fortifications. By 
 mutual consent the leaders of the Catholic and the 
 Huguenot armies, finding their forces greatly ex- 
 hausted and depleted, had granted numerous leaves 
 of absence, and a virtual armistice was in effect. The 
 Due d'Anjou, with Guise, had been stationed at 
 Loches, from which point he was superintending the 
 construction of numerous fortresses in the neighbor- 
 hood. Anjou and Guise, bitter rivals from childhood, 
 had during the last year of the war tacitly agreed on 
 a simulated friendship as the most politic convention 
 between them. To see them riding along side by 
 side jesting and laughing merrily, a stranger would 
 have set them down for men that had always been 
 the fastest of friends and the most sympathetic com- 
 panions, and whose attachment for each other bade 
 fair to endure throughout their lifetimes. 
 
 The road they traversed wound bewilderingly 
 through a dense oak forest, whose massive trees cast 
 cooling shadows over the dusty highway. The ac-
 
 156 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 companying cavaliers that formed a portion of 
 Anjou's guard were clothed in uniforms of dazzling 
 hues, embroidered with gold and embellished with 
 laces. The crimson cloak was their especial badge, 
 and sweeping plumes trailed from their gold-braided 
 hats. The costumes of the two young dukes were 
 even richer than these. Guise's haughty head was 
 crowned with a black velvet toque adorned with 
 white plumes ; over a doublet of gray and silver he 
 wore a white scarf with fringe and fleur-de-lys of 
 gold ; his hose and velvet mantle were of scarlet, and 
 his long thigh-boots were turned down below his 
 knees. The Due d'Anjou was equally gay in a 
 bodice of purple slashed with scarlet, gray hose, and 
 a gold-embroidered crimson cloak. 
 
 Monsieur, the king's brother, was a young man of 
 majestic figure and bearing. His features were regu- 
 lar like those of his mother, Catherine de Medicis, 
 from whom he had inherited a command of expres- 
 sion that made dissimulation the most natural thing 
 for him in the world. Insincerity was portrayed in 
 his every feature, his bland smile as well as his lack 
 of spontaneity in speech and gesture inspiring imme- 
 diate distrust. He possessed a chin that betokened 
 tenacity, eyes in which shone cunning and deceit, 
 and a coarse, sensual mouth. He was accomplished, 
 like Guise, as a soldier and a courtier, few persons in 
 the court presenting a more chivalrous demeanor. 
 He loved ostentatious profligacy, and was fastidious 
 and indolent as well as excitable and impulsive. 
 
 The party had reined in their horses, and as they 
 proceeded at a walk along the shady roadway they
 
 AN ENCOUNTER AND A RECEPTION 157 
 
 made a brilliant picture against the dark green of 
 the forest. 
 
 Guise and Anjou were some paces in advance of 
 their escort. They were engaged in a frivolous dis- 
 cussion of the relative brilliancy of diamonds and 
 rubies, having compared these gems to certain ladies 
 of the court, when the Due d' Anjou suddenly drew 
 his watch, noted the hour, and began glancing un- 
 easily up and down the road. 
 
 "Per mafi!" he exclaimed, petulantly, using a 
 Gascon oath that he had of late affected as a man- 
 nerism, " it is already half-past three, and we have 
 not yet come to the end of this interminable forest. 
 I am afraid, my dear Henri, that we have lost our 
 way, and shall be compelled to seek shelter at some 
 near-by chalet." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " retorted Guise ; " I tell you I know 
 this road thoroughly, and if you will trust me 
 as guide, I shall lead you to Loches within the 
 hour." 
 
 " Very well, Monsieur, since you wish it, you shall 
 conduct us. But I will lay you a wager your self- 
 confidence will soon vanish." 
 
 " As to that," replied Guise, " we shall see. In 
 the meantime I pray you to have no anxiety." 
 
 The two laughed heartily in a spirit of causeless 
 hilarity that the very atmosphere seemed to foster. 
 Guise was thoroughly confident of his ability to 
 find the way, and Anjou decided to rely on him. 
 
 The conversation drifted back to the ladies of the 
 court. 
 
 " Were I you, Monsieur, " exclaimed Guise, in a
 
 158 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 tone of raillery, " I should use every occasion to 
 extol the emerald." 
 
 "And why the emerald?" demanded Anjou, 
 puzzled. 
 
 " Because there is nothing else in all the universe 
 besides the emerald that can be compared with the 
 flashing eyes of Mile, de la Chateauneuf. 'Twin 
 emeralds set in gleaming ivory,' as our worthy poet, 
 Clement Marot, says, you. know." 
 
 " I call a truce, Henri," Anjou cried ; " we were 
 speaking only in the most general terms, and of a 
 sudden you stoop to personalities." 
 
 " I will not grant the truce, Monsieur," protested 
 Guise, laughing. " You cannot take offence at so 
 sincere a compliment to your mistress' eyes ! " 
 
 " Granted, then ! " agreed the other. " But I 
 must have retaliation, and I know of no other means 
 than to question you directly on your own love 
 affairs." 
 
 " I fear that will be but poor sport, Monsieur," 
 replied Guise, deprecatingly. " You know too well 
 the history of my affections is dull at best." 
 
 " Ah, but confess now ! You have a mistress of 
 unsurpassed beauty, wit, and virtue, I '11 warrant. 
 Tell me her name and hiding-place, that I may have 
 the honor of worshipping at her shrine." 
 
 The Due de Guise met the bantering tones of his 
 companion without flinching. " I will admit," he 
 said, slowly, and with fine sarcasm, " that I have 
 often been enamoured of a fair face or a sparkling 
 wit, and I may at times have faintly pressed my 
 suit; but experience has taught me that M. d'Anjou
 
 THE TWO YOUNG MEN PERCEIVED A SMALL SKIFF
 
 AN ENCOUNTER AND A RECEPTION 159 
 
 is so widely known among the ladies of France that 
 a simple soldier like myself stands no chance of being 
 favored by them." 
 
 Anjou bit his lips, but forced a smile, crying, 
 " Come, Henri, I will not take ' No ' for an answer. 
 There was a time when we were children together 
 at Amboise, and you always claimed to be the cav- 
 alier of no less a personage than Marguerite, my 
 sister. But she, fickle girl, as you well remember, 
 one day declared herself to the king, our father, in 
 favor of the youthful Marquis de Beaupr^au ! " 
 
 This time it was Guise's turn to wince. He con- 
 cealed any evidence of Anjou's blow having struck 
 home, by adroitly calling his companion's attention 
 to a quiet body of water in sight of which they had 
 just come. 
 
 The forest walls had suddenly diverged, revealing 
 a broad crystal lagoon, evidently formed by the 
 abrupt widening of a sluggish stream. The spot 
 had apparently been chosen as a ford because as 
 the river widened it decreased in depth; neverthe- 
 less, the stillness of the water and its dark color 
 boded no shallow crossing-place. Hardly had the 
 two young men arrived at the water's edge when 
 they perceived, idly drifting in the midst of the 
 stream, a small skiff in which were seated three 
 women. As the distance from the bank was not 
 great, it was easy to distinguish the features of the 
 women, and the young men were simultaneously struck 
 with the extreme beauty of one of them in particular. 
 Seeing that they had not yet been noticed by the 
 fair occupants of the boat, who were intently watch-
 
 l6O A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 ing two fishermen some distance up stream, Guise 
 and Anjou, actuated by a common impulse, quickly 
 withdrew behind a clump of trees and, signalling to 
 their approaching escort to halt, held a consultation 
 of war. 
 
 " What a magnificent creature the central one is ! " 
 exclaimed Anjou, ecstatically. "To think that so 
 fair a flower should bloom so far from the court of 
 France ! " 
 
 " She is indeed beautiful," assented Guise, " and I 
 foresee a most pleasant adventure in our having 
 found her. But we must decide quickly on a 
 means of becoming more intimately acquainted 
 with her." 
 
 " Let us call her to the shore and offer her our purses 
 if she will ferry us across the river," suggested Anjou. 
 
 " I am afraid, Monsieur," replied Guise, dryly, "that 
 we might underestimate the lady's quality " 
 
 " Nonsense, Henri," expostulated the other. " Could 
 there be in all France a lady of such marvellous beauty 
 without her existence being known to either myself 
 or you?" 
 
 " Doubtless you are right, Monsieur," continued 
 Guise, with a bland smile ; " but let us proceed with 
 caution at first, nevertheless. I propose that we call 
 her to the shore, frankly explain our quality and 
 predicament, and throw ourselves on her mercy. 
 Once pity is awakened in a woman's breast, Heaven 
 alone knows what may follow ! " Guise crossed his 
 hands in such absurd mock seriousness, as he uttered 
 this last remark, that his companion could not refrain 
 from laughing heartily.
 
 AN ENCOUNTER AND A RECEPTION l6l 
 
 " Agreed ! " cried Anjou. " You shall be our guide 
 on the road to the feminine heart, as you have been 
 on this dusty highway. But mind you reach the 
 goal in better time, and let no counter attractions 
 divert you from your course ! " 
 
 Anjou then made a sign to the captain of the 
 guard, who was the same Montesquiou whom we 
 have seen at Jarnac assassinate the Prince de Conde. 
 The two young men rode slowly to the bank, the 
 soldiery following at the usual distance. 
 
 The Due de Guise, forming a trumpet of his hands, 
 hailed the occupants of the boat, who, turning at the 
 sound, manifested much surprise at the interruption. 
 One of the women, raising her voice as high as pos- 
 sible, inquired what was wanted ; whereupon Guise 
 replied in a polite tone that they were soldiers 
 returning to their quarters and that they had lost 
 their way. The women appeared to be holding a 
 consultation for a moment or two after this, and the 
 young men were delighted to see that they had lifted 
 their oars and were preparing to row toward the 
 bank. A score of strokes sufficed to propel the 
 skiff to the young men's feet. 
 
 The beautiful woman that Guise and Anjou had so 
 greatly admired raised her glance modestly and gave 
 a sudden gasp of surprise, blushing furiously in a 
 manner that heightened her exquisite comeliness. 
 Guise, on his part, started as though he had been 
 struck, and raised his hand to his eyes in a gesture 
 of incredulity. Anjou and the other two women 
 watched this little pantomime with amazement. 
 
 In another moment Guise had regained his com-
 
 1 62 A PARFIT GEN TIL KNIGHT 
 
 posure sufficiently to remove his toque and bow 
 most deferentially. 
 
 " Could there be any possibility of my mistaking 
 the loveliest woman in all France," he said, gallantly, 
 " I should declare that I have not the pleasure of 
 seeing Mme. la Princesse de Montpensier." 
 
 Victoire, for she it was in the boat with two of the 
 ladies of the chateau, crimsoned again, and replied, 
 modestly, " The meeting is none the less agreeable 
 for its unexpectedness, M. de Guise." 
 
 Guise then gracefully presented Anjou, whose 
 amazement at the acquaintance of the two was lost 
 sight of in his admiration for the lady's great beauty. 
 
 " We were returning to Loches," Anjou explained, 
 "and notwithstanding M. de Guise's protestations 
 that he knew the road, had completely lost ourselves, 
 when our anxious eyes were greeted with the lovely 
 vision of a nymph and her naiads drifting on this 
 idyllic stretch of water." 
 
 " And we must beg of you, Madame," Guise con- 
 tinued," that you be our good fairy to the extent of 
 directing us on our way." 
 
 The discovery that this rural beauty was none 
 other than the Victoire de M6zieres to whom he had 
 once been so ardently attached and whom he had 
 never succeeded in entirely forgetting, put quite an- 
 other color on the adventure Guise had promised 
 himself. Mme. de Montpensier, on the other hand, 
 after the first sensation of surprise and joy at seeing 
 her girlhood hero, experienced a deep foreboding of 
 evil in the happening. Notwithstanding Chabanes' 
 disapproval, she had never put on Guise's act of send-
 
 AN ENCOUNTER AND A RECEPTION 163 
 
 ing her the book an evil construction. Her confidence 
 in Guise was so great as to compel her to be most 
 lenient in judging his intentions, and finally she had 
 almost decided that he had sent her the marked 
 volume in a spirit of idle humor and on an impulse 
 that meant no wrong. Still, at times, when Cha- 
 banes' words arose most vividly in her mind, she was 
 filled with a vague doubt in regard to Guise that 
 pained her more cruelly than she would admit to her- 
 self. Besides, there was a feeling of disappointment 
 that arose from her frequent involuntary comparisons 
 of the young duke with the Comte de Chabanes. 
 Guise must be the soul of honor ; he was the greatest 
 noble in France, except the king; and he was the 
 trusted leader of the great French Catholic Church. 
 Surely he was incapable of real wrong; and yet 
 and yet he lacked something that was the very 
 basis of Raoul's character. Why could not M. de 
 Guise make love like M. de Chabanes? She could 
 not deny that her heart beat with unusual rapidity 
 at the sight of the handsome and courageous gentle- 
 man for whom she had formerly had so great an 
 inclination. 
 
 The etiquette of hospitality demanded that she 
 press these chance visitors to return with her to the 
 chateau which she becomingly did ; yet she feared 
 the consequences of a meeting between her husband 
 and his former enemy. The Prince de Montpensier 
 had returned to Champigny during the temporary 
 cessation of hostilities between the two armies, and 
 he was at that very moment hawking in a neighbor- 
 ing preserve with the Comte de Chabanes.
 
 1 64 A PAKFIT GEN TIL KNIGHT 
 
 Anjou, who knew nothing of Guise's former attach- 
 ment for Victoire, hastened to express his delight at 
 the invitation she extended, intimating that his long 
 ride had greatly fatigued him, and accepting in the 
 name of both himself and the Due de Guise. The 
 latter would have gladly foregone the pleasure and 
 trusted to some future occasion to bring Victoire and 
 himself together without the presence of Anjou, who, 
 he instinctively feared, might prove to be a dangerous 
 rival in this as in other affairs. As there was no 
 retreating, however, he decided to make the best of 
 it all, and he added his grateful thanks to those of his 
 companion. 
 
 Having obtained from Victoire directions as to the 
 road to Loches, Anjou sent his men by a ford higher 
 up the river to that place, telling Montesquieu that 
 he would have no further use for their services until 
 the morrow, when he would return with the Due de 
 Guise to headquarters. 
 
 Guise and Anjou then took the proffered seats in 
 the boat, which they quickly propelled across the 
 stream, the horses having been sent around by the 
 upper ford with one of Anjou's men. On the oppo- 
 site bank of the river they found the horses and 
 grooms of Mme. de Montpensier and her ladies. 
 Anjou gallantly assisted Victoire to mount, Guise 
 courteously holding her horse's bridle, and, pre- 
 ceded by Victoire's ladies, the two dukes walked on 
 either side of the princess in the direction of the 
 chateau. 
 
 " We have explained our presence here, Madame," 
 said Anjou, when they were well on their way ; " may
 
 AN ENCOUNTER AND A RECEPTION 165 
 
 we not demand of you how it happened that we were 
 so fortunate as to discover so rare a jewel in so lovely 
 a setting?" 
 
 " By merest chance, I assure you, Monsieur," 
 replied Victoire, laughing gaily at the elaborate com- 
 pliment. " I was about to accompany my husband 
 and M. le Comte de Chabanes, our guest, to the chase, 
 when I was attacked by a slight headache. Later, 
 when the gentlemen had departed, my headache took 
 wings, and, hearing that the men were taking salmon 
 in the river and at ' Apollo's Lake,' as we at Cham- 
 pigny call the spot where you first saw me " 
 
 " Henceforth we shall dedicate it to Aphrodite," 
 interrupted Guise. 
 
 " I decided to witness the sport," Victoire con- 
 tinued, ignoring the duke's remark. She was fearful 
 of encouraging him in his compliments, resolving to 
 give him not the slightest grounds for belief that he 
 might ever again command the entrance to her heart. 
 "And so, you see, there was nothing remarkable 
 about my being in the boat." 
 
 " I assure you, Madame," said Anjou, in his ex- 
 travagant tone, " I hope never to see anything more 
 remarkably entrancing ! " 
 
 Monsieur was evidently trying to outdo himself in 
 the matter of compliments. Guise observed this, and 
 bit his lips in unconscious jealousy. Victoire, know- 
 ing the king's brother only from hearsay, although 
 attracted by his handsome face and courtly manners, 
 could not help distrusting him as an enemy and rival 
 of Guise, whom she could not but consider almost 
 faultless. To discourage the least impulse on the
 
 1 66 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 latter's part to believe that her old-time inclination for 
 him was not quite dead, she felt that she must treat 
 him with all the coldness and dignity she could 
 summon, although she knew that such a method of 
 procedure would pain her inexpressibly.
 
 XV 
 
 A REPULSE AND A SUSPICION 
 
 AS they neared the chateau a fear of the conse- 
 quences of the meeting between the young 
 dukes and the prince, her husband, began to cause 
 her no little anxiety. Oddly enough, she did not once 
 think of how Chabanes would feel at seeing her in 
 company with Guise. The latter, with all the secur- 
 ity of his pride, felt no uneasiness, notwithstanding he 
 was about to become the guest of the man whom he 
 had once publicly insulted and whose life he had 
 secretly sought. The mention of the Comte de 
 Chabanes recalled to Guise the knightly cavalier 
 who had once granted him his life, and whose life, in 
 turn, he had so unhesitatingly promised as a price on 
 the head of Montpensier. Anjou, confident in his 
 exalted position and ignorant of the complicated web 
 of past events that entangled his hostess, her husband, 
 their guest, and Guise, was light-hearted in the antici- 
 pation of unusual pleasure. 
 
 The party was met at the outer court of the chateau 
 by Chabanes and Montpensier, who were just return- 
 ing from the chase. The sport had been good and 
 they were in excellent spirits as they dismounted in 
 the courtyard, when suddenly the prince's eye fell on 
 the approaching group.
 
 1 68 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 " Diable ! " he muttered uneasily. " We are to 
 have visitors, it seems." And then, as he recognized 
 the Due de Guise walking beside his wife, he ex- 
 claimed in a tone of intense anger, " Nom de Dieu! 
 What insolence is this? Raoul, do you see? It's 
 Guise Guise walking with my wife ! " 
 
 " With the Due d'Anjou on the other side," added 
 Chabanes, with feigned coolness. He was trembling 
 in mingled anger, fear, and jealousy. 
 
 " But how do they happen to be here ? " cried 
 Montpensier, in unconcealed agitation. " Does my 
 wife dare, then, to make appointments with the Due 
 de Guise, to bring him even to my door, into my 
 presence, as though he were our dearest friend? I 
 tell you, Raoul, they shall not enter my house " 
 
 "Calm yourself, Charles," interrupted the count, 
 gently ; " Monsieur is the brother of the king, and we, 
 as loyal subjects of his Majesty, must offer him every 
 hospitality within our power." 
 
 "You are right, of course," replied the prince, 
 with a violent effort to control himself. " But they 
 shall not remain long ! " he added, between his 
 teeth. 
 
 Montpensier's breath was coming and going at an 
 unusual rate, his teeth were tightly set, and his hands 
 betrayed his nervousness by the manner in which 
 they were alternately opening and closing. Cha- 
 banes, on the other hand, had summoned all his 
 strength, and he met Victoire and her escorts with his 
 most captivating smile. 
 
 " This is indeed a delightfully unexpected honor," 
 he said, fearing that Montpensier's lack of self-control
 
 A REPULSE AND A SUSPICION 169 
 
 would not permit him to receive the distinguished 
 guests cordially. 
 
 The prince, however, advanced toward them, ex- 
 tending his hands with the best semblance of welcome 
 he could assume. 
 
 " You seem excited, my dear Montpensier," said 
 Anjou, noticing the prince's agitation ; " has any- 
 thing serious occurred?" 
 
 Chabanes again took the liberty of speaking in his 
 friend's stead. " M. de Montpensier's agitation is 
 easily explained. He finds it most embarrassing to 
 be unable to receive so great a prince according to 
 his quality." 
 
 Guise winced at the evident slight; the count had 
 referred only to the Due d'Anjou. 
 
 " As for that," replied Anjou, graciously, " M. de 
 Montpensier may spare himself all anxiety. Our 
 coming has been most accidental, and we have 
 already received so cordial a welcome from this 
 charming princess that we shall always feel our in- 
 ability to discharge the obligation." 
 
 So far Victoire had said nothing. She was 
 anxiously regarding her husband, fearing that his 
 emotion would render him unequal to the occasion, 
 and Chabanes noted that she was excessively 
 pale. 
 
 She seized the opportunity offered by Anjou's 
 words to explain the circumstances of her encounter 
 with him and Guise. 
 
 By degrees the prince became master of himself to 
 such an extent that he appeared at ease, though he 
 was content to allow much of the duty of hospitality
 
 I/O A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 to devolve on the count, who played his part 
 admirably. 
 
 Throughout the dinner hour the Due de Guise, 
 resolved to make the best of the situation, constantly 
 sought by every device to gain the attention of 
 Victoire, exerting himself to the utmost to be agree- 
 able and pleasing. Anjou followed his example, and 
 the count, although he saw with pleasure that Vic- 
 toire was determined to hold the dukes at a distance, 
 was tortured with the most violent jealousy. It was 
 evident to him that the princess found great pleasure 
 in the society of Anjou and Guise, particularly of 
 the latter, regardless of her dissimulation. 
 
 Opportunity offering, Victoire spoke privately with 
 Guise. " M. le Due," she said, in a tone that scarcely 
 concealed her deep concern, " I have wondered long 
 and uneasily what could have prompted you to send 
 me the marked volume I received some time 
 ago." 
 
 " Did you not enjoy its perusal, Mme. la Princesse ? " 
 asked Guise, who had half forgotten the book. 
 
 " It seemed a useless thing at the least, bad in its 
 tendencies and unamusing. I scarce knew what to 
 make of it or you." 
 
 " It was but an idle pleasantry, Madame, I assure 
 you. I had not intended you to take seriously a 
 single word of it, " protested Guise, beginning to fear 
 lest he had overstepped the strict propriety the 
 princess ever required. 
 
 She did not reply. "Why did he send it?" she 
 thought, unsatisfied. "It would have been the last 
 thing of which Raoul could have thought."
 
 A REPULSE AND A SUSPICION 171 
 
 Guise hastened to change the subject of conversa- 
 tion. The moonlight being bright, he proposed a 
 stroll about the park, to which Montpensier consented 
 as best he could. The prince led the way out to 
 the avenue, followed by Guise, who had so gallantly 
 offered his arm to Victoire that she dared not refuse, 
 while Chabanes, with a pretence of enthusiasm, 
 engaged Anjou in conversation relative to a certain 
 breed of hounds. 
 
 The gentle, pleasing voice of the Due de Guise, 
 combined with the enchanting influence of the silent, 
 romantic night, was not without its effect on Vic- 
 toire, and after a time she noted with alarm the 
 increasing pleasure that she found in her hero's 
 companionship. She had listened with heaving 
 breast and sparkling eyes to his glowing descriptions 
 of incidents of war. Her husband had told her the 
 same stories often before, but till now they had never 
 possessed an absorbing interest for her. Guise, 
 noticing the effect his words produced, pressed every 
 advantage to the utmost. 
 
 Victoire, in alarm at last, was on the point of 
 proposing their return to the chiteau when, tripping 
 over a vine that lay across a bypath into which she 
 had unconsciously allowed herself to be led, she lost 
 her slipper. Guise was at her feet instantly. 
 
 " Madame," he said, in a voice full of suppressed 
 passion and that thrilled her strangely, " did I not 
 know you for the most virtuous lady in France, I 
 should accuse you of having lost this slipper pur- 
 posely, that you might, in permitting me to replace 
 it, torture me the more with the privilege."
 
 1/2 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 "Torture, Monsieur?" asked Victoire, not grasping 
 the significance of his words. 
 
 " Yes," answered Guise, with feigned sadness and 
 humility. " Ah, there is no use in denying it, Victoire ! 
 I have never wavered in my feeling for you. As a 
 girl I loved you madly, and now, when I see you a 
 woman, even more divinely beautiful and noble than 
 you were when I knew you before, the smouldering 
 embers of my passion leap into consuming flame, my 
 heart is torn by uncontrollable emotion " 
 
 " That is enough, Monsieur ! " interrupted Victoire, 
 haughtily. " You will oblige me by at once conduct- 
 ing me to my friends." 
 
 " Victoire, forgive me ! For I am mad with love 
 and know not what I say. Ah, you will not be so 
 cruel to me ! I am humbly repentant " 
 
 " Monsieur should not make it necessary for me to 
 repeat my request," insisted Victoire, firmly. " If 
 you do not care to grant it, and at once, I shall return 
 alone." 
 
 " Pardieu, you shall not ! " exclaimed Guise, beside 
 himself with the first disappointment of the kind that 
 his life had known. As Victoire made a move to 
 carry her threat into execution, he seized her about 
 the waist, crying, " You shall not leave me thus with- 
 out one word ! " 
 
 The princess was trembling with terror. She hesi- 
 tated between the overwhelming desire to release 
 herself from Guise's grasp and a fear of the conse- 
 quences should she make an outcry. At this moment 
 the voice of the Comte de Chabanes was heard within 
 five paces of the spot where they stood. Guise at
 
 A REPULSE AND A SUSPICION 173 
 
 once released Victoire, and in the same instant Anjou, 
 Montpensier, and the count appeared from behind a 
 clump of trees. 
 
 " St. Huberts are the most courageous after all," 
 Chabanes was saying. His voice was pitched in an 
 inordinately high key, as though he wished to drown 
 out all other sound, and it was evident that neither 
 Anjou nor Montpensier was paying the slightest 
 attention to his discourse, both of them being in- 
 tent on regarding every shadow with the closest 
 scrutiny. 
 
 Chabanes had followed the stratagem by which 
 Guise had succeeded in leading Victoire from the 
 avenue into the bypath, and he had noticed the agita- 
 tion with which the prince had seen them disappear. 
 Indeed, Montpensier was on the point of following 
 his wife in rage and ordering her to return to the 
 chateau, when the count called to him, compelling 
 him to rejoin Anjou and to take part in the frivolous 
 discussion of dogs that Chabanes was forcing with all 
 his skill. The count then guided their steps toward 
 the spot where Victoire and Guise had disappeared, 
 pitching his voice high as they approached, with the 
 result that has been seen. 
 
 " Ah, M. d'Anjou," exclaimed Guise, quite as 
 though nothing had happened, " is not Champigny a 
 fairy spot? Can you reproach me now with having 
 been a poor guide? " 
 
 " I begin to believe now," rejoined Anjou, regain- 
 ing his good-humor with the sight of Victoire again, 
 " that you misled us purposely. Such being the 
 case, rest assured I forgive you with all my heart,
 
 1/4 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 in the hope that you will make many more such 
 ' mistakes ' ! " 
 
 Chabanes easily penetrated Victoire's hastily as- 
 sumed mask and saw that she was greatly agitated. 
 " Messieurs," he said, regretfully, " it is shameful that 
 we cannot continue to enjoy this radiant night, but I 
 fear Madame will find it is growing too damp for 
 her." 
 
 " I was about to suggest that we return on that 
 account," said Victoire, eagerly seizing the excuse 
 Chabanes held out to her. She took the arm of the 
 prince, who cast a look full of gratitude at the count, 
 and they led the party slowly back to the chateau. 
 
 Now, it chanced that the apartments that were 
 generally devoted to the uses of royal or distin- 
 guished visitors had been unoccupied for so long 
 a time that they were in no fit state for the accommo- 
 dation of Guise and Anjou. Montpensier, therefore, 
 was constrained to offer these gentlemen his own 
 apartments. 
 
 To Guise was allotted as his sleeping-chamber that 
 in which stood the antiquated suit of mail that 
 Chabanes had worn at Jarnac. On glancing around 
 the room the duke perceived this black armor, and 
 he was at once seized with the impression that he 
 had seen this same suit of mail before. He deter- 
 mined to examine it. The marked peculiarities of 
 its construction in the old style recalled the battle 
 of Jarnac and the strange cavalier who had worn it 
 and who had so heroically defeated the attempts of 
 Besme on the life of Montpensier. 
 
 " Evidently," he thought, " this armor belongs to
 
 A REPULSE AND A SUSPICION 175 
 
 Montpensier, and was worn by some one connected 
 with his household. Who could it have been?" 
 
 Then, a sudden light flashing over his conscious- 
 ness, "The Comte de Chabanes, by the shield of 
 Mars ! " he exclaimed, a look of grim humor steal- 
 ing over his countenance. " Then Besme was thrice 
 in arm's-length of his reward, and failed to take it ! " 
 
 The following morning Anjou found Guise alone 
 and strolling about the park before the chateau. 
 
 " Is it not a shame," exclaimed the latter, when 
 the customary greetings had been exchanged, " that 
 we must leave the delightful society of this quaint 
 old place after so short a stay?" 
 
 " I shall not go without great regret," admitted 
 Anjou, frankly. "But must we leave at once?" he 
 added, with a ludicrous look of despair. 
 
 " Come, come," remonstrated Guise, jestingly ; 
 " surely Monsieur is not going to allow himself to 
 be restrained from his martial duties by discourses 
 on the breed of dogs ! " 
 
 " You know right well I am not ! " replied Anjou. 
 " But you must confess, Henri, that you are not 
 averse to our remaining here another day, and espe- 
 cially another night, eh?" 
 
 Guise strove hard to keep down the blood that 
 suffused his handsome features. "Well, since you 
 believe as much," he said, lightly, " let us make the 
 best of our presence here and stay until to-morrow." 
 
 " Agreed ! " exclaimed Anjou, heartily. " And 
 who, pray, may be this Comte de Chabanes, who 
 discourses so ardently on the superiority of St. 
 Huberts ? The name has a slightly familiar sound."
 
 1 76 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 " If I am not mistaken he is a Huguenot suspect 
 whom the queen-mother has forbidden to appear at 
 court " 
 
 "And whom she permits to reside at Champigny 
 because of the eloquence on his behalf of Mont- 
 pensier?" interrupted Monsieur. 
 
 " The same. For the rest, he is a swordsman of 
 great skill and courage, filled with a highly exag- 
 gerated sense of chivalry." 
 
 "And his position in regard to Mme. de Mont- 
 pensier is ?" 
 
 " I do not know, unless it be that of peacemaker 
 between the princess and her husband, who, it would 
 seem, is boorishly jealous of his glorious spouse." 
 
 " Chabanes is not her lover? " 
 
 " Impossible ! " exclaimed Guise, deprecatingly. 
 " True, he is handsome in his way, and accom- 
 plished, but this princess, if I have judged her 
 rightly, prefers another stamp of man." 
 
 " Still," continued Anjou, but half-convinced, " it 
 were small wonder if these two, left alone here for 
 many months, should, from sheer lack of other op- 
 portunities, become seriously attached to each other. 
 I like not the air of unconscious familiarity with 
 which they address each other." 
 
 " Nevertheless, it is the surest sign of a friendship 
 that precludes more serious inclinations," replied 
 Guise, with a shrug. 
 
 "At least, granting your premise, we must call 
 him a man of ice," said Monsieur. He added 
 mentally, as he saw Montpensier and the count 
 sauntering toward them from the direction of the
 
 A REPULSE AND A SUSPICION \*]J 
 
 chateau, " If my suspicions are verified we shall 
 find a means of separating these two ' friends.' " 
 
 Neither Montpensier nor the count looked in the 
 least the freshness they feigned. The prince had 
 spent a sleepless night, torn by his emotions, while 
 Chabanes had not even gone to bed, so tortured 
 had he been by his fears for the prince and Victoire, 
 and by his desire to have her comfort unmarred 
 by disagreeable incident or interference. In great 
 measure he had succeeded in stifling his own furi- 
 ous jealousy, ever putting self-interest from him and 
 looking at things only as they concerned the woman 
 he so madly adored and the friend to whom he owed 
 so much gratitude. 
 
 12
 
 XVI 
 
 A RUSE AND AN INTERVENTION 
 
 / TpHE morning passed without incident, the count 
 -* devoting himself to the entertainment of all, 
 and to the prevention of any private interview be- 
 tween Guise and Victoire. The latter paid respect- 
 ful attention to Anjou, so that Monsieur was elated 
 in the belief that he had made a most favorable 
 impression and had gained the advantage over Guise, 
 whom the princess practically ignored. The after- 
 noon threatened to pass in the same manner, much 
 to the disappointment of the Due de Guise, who 
 eagerly watched for an opportunity to press his suit 
 with the beautiful hostess. He accordingly began 
 to cast about him for some means of obtaining a few 
 moments alone with Victoire. It chanced that in 
 passing through the court that morning Guise had 
 noticed beside the great well a beautiful Angora 
 cat, which was industriously performing the morning 
 ablutions of a numerous family of very young kittens. 
 Having excused himself for a moment toward the 
 middle of the afternoon, he went out to the court 
 and, as he expected, found the Angora and her 
 family where he had seen them before. Selecting 
 one of the kittens he carried it back into the great 
 hall, where the company was assembled, and feigned
 
 A RUSE AND AN INTERVENTION 179 
 
 great admiration for the little creature, as he ten- 
 derly stroked its shivering body. The Due d'Anjou 
 had from infancy possessed an intense abhorrence 
 for cats, and no sooner did his eyes fall on the 
 innocent kitten than, feigning a slight indisposition, 
 he begged that he might be excused, as he desired to 
 walk awhile in the park. Montpensier, not under- 
 standing his guest's peculiarity, volunteered to ac- 
 company him; but Chabanes, penetrating Guise's 
 ruse, remained with the latter and Victoire. 
 
 Guise now saw that it would be next to impossible" 
 to rid himself of the presence of the count, who, he 
 began to realize, had resolved to guard Mme. de 
 Montpensier faithfully from the slightest temptation 
 or unpleasantness. Victoire happening to mention 
 Chabanes' accomplishments as a musician, Guise 
 instantly discerned an opportunity, and pressed the 
 count to favor them with a song. In this he was 
 joined by Victoire, eager to have her friend display 
 the talent of which she was so proud, for the benefit 
 of the duke, whose approbation she so highly valued. 
 The count readily consented, at the suggestion of 
 Guise rendering a beautifully passionate love-song 
 that had been a favorite of Victoire's before her 
 marriage. 
 
 Guise, noiselessly crossing the room, seated him- 
 self beside Victoire, saying, " Madame, there is a 
 simple little story that goes wonderfully well with 
 that song. Will you let me relate it?" 
 
 Victoire, who had almost forgiven the duke's con- 
 duct on the night before, since he had appeared so 
 humbly penitent and remorseful all day, and who
 
 180 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 was moved by an intense desire to listen again to the 
 musical tones of his soft voice, at once consented. 
 
 Chabanes, who, lute in hand, had begun to sing, 
 saw at once how neatly he had been trapped by 
 Guise. He must sing the song through while his 
 favored rival, before his very eyes, conversed with 
 the mistress of his heart. He saw that the duke 
 spoke earnestly, gazing steadily into the fascinated 
 eyes of Victoire with a look that poured out volumes 
 of intensest yearning and pleading. He watched 
 Guise, little by little, draw closer to the woman he 
 loved, till his face was within a few inches of hers, 
 till he knew that their warm breaths intermingled 
 intoxicatingly. He could see that Guise, both by 
 his personality and his words, exercised an immense 
 influence over Victoire, for her bosom heaved with 
 emotion, and her lips were drawn in an ecstasy of 
 was it pity, compassion, sympathy, or love? His 
 heart beat high and the blood rushed through his 
 brain in mad torrents. He was helpless, and Victoire 
 was in mortal danger of being fascinated, captivated 
 beyond recall by this man, as beautiful and wily 
 as a serpent. The prince's wife was being insulted, 
 tempted, wooed in her husband's house, and before 
 her lover's eyes ! The impulse to spring on Guise 
 and strangle the dishonest breath from his body 
 seized Chabanes with awful fury, and he was com- 
 pelled to summon the entire strength of an invincible 
 will to hold himself in check, to keep his hands 
 off the man's throat. He began to feel that Victoire 
 loved the duke, not as Guise would have her love 
 him, Guise the unscrupulous, conscienceless, ruth-
 
 A RUSE AND AN INTERVENTION l8l 
 
 less incarnation of sensual Self, but that he was in 
 every way her hero, her idol, her ideal. He was filled 
 with a fear that he would be unable to save his 
 friend's happiness and home that Guise with his 
 fine words would ruin all. The tide of jealousy 
 swept madly through his disordered mind ; the sense 
 of injustice that a love as true and noble as he 
 felt his own to be should be ignored for a passion as 
 unworthy as that of the beast that now so fiendishly 
 gloated over his lady wrung a terrible cry from 
 his heart, while, dominating all, the voice of con- 
 science cried to him that he must rescue Victoire 
 and preserve the honor of the prince at any cost. 
 
 And all this time there poured from his throat a 
 flow and flood of song such as neither Guise nor 
 Victoire had dreamed possible; it seemed that all 
 the terrible conflict in his soul found expression 
 in the wailing notes of this simple love melody. So 
 the song of Chabanes more magnificently accom- 
 panied the tale of passion that Guise poured into Vic- 
 toire's ears than any music in the world could have 
 done, and, all unmindful, he himself furthered im- 
 measurably the momentary cause of his rival. Filled 
 with a hitherto unknown fervor by the mad harmony 
 of words and song, Victoire unconsciously allowed 
 herself to be carried far, far out on the sea of pas- 
 sion that surrounded her interminably on every side. 
 Chabanes, at the climax of his song, saw her great 
 blue eyes, which stared so steadily into those of Guise, 
 slowly fill with tears that threatened to overflow the 
 kohl-dark lashes. 
 
 The singer stopped short, the lute slipped from his
 
 1 82 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 nervous grasp and fell with a crash to the floor, and 
 he staggered drunkenly to the wall for support. 
 Victoire, suddenly brought to her senses, sprang 
 away from Guise and ran to the count as though she 
 sought refuge, a haven from the storm of passion 
 that overwhelmed her. Guise, bewildered at the 
 sudden silence, gazed in amazement from the woman 
 to the singer. At that moment the ring of flying 
 hoofs and the furious barking of Hercules were heard 
 below ; there was an indistinct chattering of numer- 
 ous voices ; and the Due d'Anjou, followed by Mont- 
 pensier, burst into the room. 
 
 " My dear Henri," said the former, addressing 
 Guise, and without noticing the varying and intense 
 emotions depicted on the faces of the duke, the 
 princess, and Chabanes, " I regret to inform you 
 that a message from the Marechal de Tavannes states 
 that LusSgnan is about to be attacked and that our 
 immediate presence at Loches is greatly desired. 
 In all probability I shall ask you to undertake the 
 relief of the besieged town." 
 
 Montpensier and Chabanes accompanied Anjou 
 and Guise for some distance on their journey to 
 Loches. After the prince and the count had left 
 them the two great leaders of the Catholic army 
 rode several leagues without speaking a word. Pres- 
 ently Anjou demanded brusquely of his companion, 
 " Are you still thinking of Mme. de Montpensier, 
 then?" 
 
 " It is quite evident that you judge my thoughts 
 by your own," responded Guise, ill-humoredly. He 
 was assured that Anjou had fallen a victim to the
 
 A RUSE AND AN INTERVENTION 183 
 
 same malady that possessed him, and fearing, from 
 Victoire's evident interest in the king's brother, a 
 powerful rival, he decided to conceal his love, which 
 he had begun to regard as a most serious matter. 
 
 " Well, my dear Henri," said Anjou, in his suavest 
 tone, after a moment's silence, " I confess that I am 
 unable to rid myself of the gracious souvenir of the 
 most captivating woman I have ever seen." 
 
 There was another silence of some minutes before 
 Anjou asked, " Henri, where have you known this 
 lady before? You seemed like old, long-parted 
 friends, when you met." 
 
 Guise, affecting surprise that Monsieur was still 
 thinking of Victoire, replied in a light, inconse- 
 quential tone. 
 
 " She came dangerously near being my sister-in- 
 law, at one time having been engaged to my brother, 
 the Due du Maine. I forget the exact circumstances 
 that gave her instead to Montpensier. You will 
 agree with me that she has been wasted on one who 
 is by much her inferior." 
 
 " With all my heart ! " cried Anjou, emphatically. 
 " There are many queens that are in no manner her 
 equals." 
 
 " Still," continued Guise, with affected indifference, 
 " her beauty has never seemed so dazzling to me as 
 it has to many." 
 
 "Be that as you will, Henri," replied Anjou; 
 "but, for my part, I have never known so incorn- 
 parable a princess ; and were I to be frequently 
 exposed to the light of her beauty I should greatly 
 dread the results."
 
 1 84 * PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 " And so it is to be a duel between us, and to the 
 death," thought Guise. " Nor is it one from which 
 Henri de Lorraine shall shrink, for he would rather 
 win this glorious creature, and take her from beneath 
 the very clutches of all the court, the king included, 
 than sit on the throne of Charles IX." 
 
 Oddly enough, so great was the influence the 
 princess had exerted over the desires of these great 
 rivals, the same desperate thoughts occupied the 
 mind of Anjou. These two ambitious men, deterred 
 by no scruple in all the world, not even that of fear, 
 felt at the same moment the coming conflict, the 
 sense of which this woman's fatal fascination had 
 implanted. Their meditations, from participation in 
 which no thought was too dark or loathsome, were 
 not less gloomy than their faces, as they rode 
 slowly into Loches; not even the prospect of bat- 
 tle for a kingdom could divert their thoughts. The 
 Marechal de Tavannes, cunning, cruel, and impatient 
 to crush out of France the enemies of his religion 
 and his king, could not divine the cause of his com- 
 mander's tardiness. 
 
 The message that Gaspard de Tavannes sent to 
 Anjou was quickly followed by another that required 
 the presence of Montpensier with his men. The 
 prince left Champigny in no good frame of mind 
 with regard to Victoire, whom his jealousy unrea- 
 sonably blamed with having been found in the boat 
 by Guise and Anjou, and with having received them 
 with entirely too much cordiality, considering her 
 husband's feelings toward the guests she had in- 
 vited. His jealousy even suggested that Victoire
 
 A RUSE AND AN INTERVENTION 185 
 
 had been purposely ill on the day of the chase, in 
 order that she might meet the dukes and bring them 
 to Champigny during her husband's absence. 
 
 Chabanes, on his part, was greatly relieved by the 
 departure of Guise and Anjou, and, although Mont- 
 pensier said nothing to him in regard to their visit, 
 he saw plainly the ill-humor under which his friend 
 was laboring. The count would gladly have told 
 the prince that his suspicions of his wife were unjust 
 and unreasonable, but, fearing to make a bad matter 
 worse by reopening so recent and virulent a wound, 
 he refrained. Victoire felt her husband's peevish- 
 ness to be very oppressive, though she was inno- 
 cently ignorant of its cause, believing that, now he 
 was rid of unwelcome guests, he should be in excel- 
 lent spirits. 
 
 The day after the departure of Anjou and Guise, 
 the count, finding himself alone with Victoire, deter- 
 mined to relieve himself of the suspense that hung 
 over him in the form of a question as to how much 
 influence the visit of Guise had exerted over her. 
 He quickly brought the conversation around to the 
 subject of the Due de Guise. 
 
 " Victoire," he said, gently, " do you still look on 
 me with as much confidence and lack of reserve as 
 ever?" 
 
 " Why, yes, of course, Raoul," was the astonished 
 reply. " Why do you ask such a question ? " 
 
 "You have said nothing to me of M. de Guise 
 since his visit, whereas you used to speak of him 
 constantly." 
 
 " But you forget that I have as yet had no oppor-
 
 1 86 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 tunity," said Victoire. " Charles does not enjoy the 
 subject, and this is the first time we have been alone 
 together." 
 
 " True," replied the count, sadly, " this is the first 
 time. But now that we are on the subject, I want 
 to ask you one question. I am not sure that I have 
 the right to ask it, but you have always been so free 
 with me that doubtless you will not greatly resent 
 it." 
 
 " You know there are few questions you could ask 
 me that I would resent, Raoul." 
 
 " Well, it is this : since the Due de Guise came has 
 your feeling toward him undergone any change?" 
 
 Victoire regarded the count thoughtfully for a few 
 moments. " I have discovered," she said, slowly, 
 " that M. de Guise has not overcome the rash impul- 
 siveness that characterized him as the younger man I 
 knew before. For the rest, he has the more firmly 
 established my opinion of him as a brilliant and 
 courageous prince." 
 
 Chabanes could not restrain a sigh, which Victoire 
 noted with a puzzled air. " There has been no other 
 change?" he asked. 
 
 " None, Raoul." 
 
 " You have not discovered that what you first 
 termed ' admiration ' may yet prove to be some- 
 thing more?" 
 
 " Raoul," replied the princess, earnestly, " you do 
 not trust rne. Must I tell you again that nothing can 
 ever shake my resolution to bar from my heart all 
 interests save those of friendship ? " 
 
 " Ah, but Victoire," cried the count, " you do not
 
 A RUSE AND AN INTERVENTION 1 87 
 
 answer my question. For the sake of our friendship 
 for your husband's sake tell me you do not love 
 the Due de Guise." 
 
 "Unhesitatingly. I do not love him. But I like 
 him." 
 
 The count made no reply. Victoire for some 
 time sat with her head resting pensively on her 
 hand. 
 
 " I half-fancied I loved him once, you know," she 
 continued, finally; "but that was all a silly girl's 
 imagination. I know now that I never loved any 
 one, and I believe I never shall. Do you know what 
 Mother Tastevin, the gypsy, told me ? That I shall 
 love a man some day as no woman ever loved before, 
 and that, although I shall know him long before 
 love comes, when it does come it will be too 
 late." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " ejaculated Chabanes. " I thought 
 you above listening to the gibberish of gypsies." 
 
 " So I am, Raoul," replied Victoire, seriously. " But 
 of all the things that fortune-tellers have predicted 
 for me that alone has remained with me, and I catch 
 myself pondering it often, wondering what it can 
 mean." 
 
 " Naturally you would remember such a prediction 
 longer than any others; its importance being so 
 great in comparison " 
 
 " No, it is not that. It is because, notwithstanding 
 my conviction that what men call ' love ' is a sealed 
 book to me and ever shall be, I sometimes fear 
 But, as you say, it is all nonsense. Of one thing I am 
 certain : if I could feel toward a man as you "
 
 1 88 A PARFIT GENTJL KNIGHT 
 
 She stopped abruptly and regarded the count with 
 a look of regret 
 
 " Go on," he said, his voice sounding strangely 
 hoarse. 
 
 " It is something we agreed never to refer to 
 again." 
 
 " Tell me what it is, Victoire." 
 
 " I was going to say," she went on, hesitantly, " that 
 if I could feel toward a man as you once said you 
 could feel toward a woman, I should Ah, but 
 there, I do not know what I should do. Besides, we 
 are talking of improbabilities while the sun is shining 
 and the birds are singing. Come, let us go for a ride 
 in the park and stop cudgelling our brains over 
 unrealities ; " and she laughed merrily. 
 
 Chabanes, sighing, made an effort to catch the 
 spirit of her sudden mirth and followed her out into 
 the park. 
 
 Ten days after Montpensier's departure from 
 Champigny, Chabanes received a letter from him 
 stating that Guise, although ordered to Lusignan, had 
 hastened to the relief of Poitiers, which city was in a 
 state of siege. Poitiers being at a distance of but ten 
 leagues from Champigny, the prince advised Cha- 
 banes to make immediate preparations to depart for 
 Paris with Victoire, so that she might not be too dan- 
 gerously near the seat of war. Also Montpensier 
 enclosed the exoneration of " M. Raoul de la Tour 
 d'lvoire, Comte de Chabanes, wrongly suspected of 
 complicity in the plots of the heretics," signed by 
 King Charles. 
 
 The preparations were hastily made, and the journey
 
 A RUSE AND AN INTERVENTION 189 
 
 was accomplished without incident. On their arrival 
 in Paris the princess, accompanied by Chabanes, went 
 to the hdtel of her father-in-law, the Due de Mont- 
 pensier, who was expecting them. 
 
 Antoinette de Lerac accompanied her mistress to 
 Paris. Some time after her unexpected avowal of 
 love for Chabanes she had obtained from her mistress 
 leave to spend three months with a sister who resided 
 in a convent near M6zieres, and after her return to 
 Champigny in June, she had treated the count with 
 her former respect, frequently, he thought, avoiding 
 meeting him. He was satisfied that her infatuation 
 had been momentary, and that she had almost forgot- 
 ten her impulsive confession of love. 
 
 The maid was intensely religious, almost to the 
 point of superstition, and in reality she gained from 
 faith and prayer the consolation that made her lonely 
 life endurable. Since the marriage of her mistress 
 the two had gradually grown away from each other, 
 until their relationship was simply that of mistress 
 and favorite servant, instead of the familiar and con- 
 fidential friendship that had formerly obtained be- 
 tween them. Antoinette was quick to realize that 
 the Comte de Chabanes had usurped her place in 
 Victoire's affections, but her love for him was such 
 that she did not begrudge him the slightest happiness 
 purchased by the sacrifice of herself. She relapsed 
 into a state of constant melancholy, varying her 
 monotonous life only with her religious devotions 
 and her small charities in the neighborhood of the 
 chateau. 
 
 She had for long been filled with the desire to
 
 I9O A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 imitate her sister and become the bride of Christ, but 
 her disinclination to be where she might not even see 
 the Comte de Chabanes, coupled with a longing to be 
 of service in bringing happiness into his life or ward- 
 ing off possible disaster, caused her to sacrifice her 
 thoughts of a convent life.
 
 XVII 
 
 A SUBJECT AND A SOVEREIGN 
 
 SHORTLY after eight o'clock one evening, about 
 a fortnight after his arrival in Paris, the Comte 
 de Chabanes decided to go for a stroll among the 
 neighboring streets. His two weeks in Paris had 
 been spent almost entirely within doors, and he was 
 eager for a glimpse of those parts of the city that 
 were familiar to him from previous residences in the 
 French capital. Accordingly, buckling on his sword 
 and enveloping himself in a long black mantle, the 
 count descended to the court and passed out into the 
 street. He chose no particular route, but wandered 
 aimlessly, turning at random and trusting to his 
 knowledge of the city to retrace his steps. He 
 passed between the irregular rows of shadowy, gable- 
 roofed houses, past the odorous Grande BoucheYie 
 and the Chatelet, where rotted prisoners of every 
 class and condition, and down the Rue Saint-Leufroi 
 to where he could hear the river rushing through the 
 paddle-wheels of the innumerable mills. As at that 
 time an edict prevented the ferrymen from plying their 
 boats after nine in the evening, he saw several of these 
 worthies hastening to and fro with the last passengers 
 of the day. Accordingly he did not cross the Seine, 
 but turned back at the Pont aux Meuniers, a wooden
 
 192 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 bridge near the Place Vallde de Misere, with its poul- 
 try-market and cook-shops, where he heard the 
 whizzing of the incessant spits. 
 
 Chabanes seemed to breathe in his surroundings 
 with great gulps, as one who has long held his 
 breath inhales the fresh air. A thousand memories of 
 youthful days, when Henri II. reigned in France and 
 adventure was on every hand for the light-hearted 
 and grave alike, arose before his mental vision. At 
 one moment the count met two cut-throats, who took 
 to their heels when they saw the sword peeping from 
 beneath his cloak. Another time he encountered a 
 detachment of the Civil Watch going its rounds. 
 Here and there a torch stuck in a wall, or a fire burn- 
 ing beneath a figure of the Virgin, served to intensify 
 the shadows. Bands of roystering young men, for 
 the most part students of the University, broke the 
 silence with noisy and ribald songs. Belated beggars 
 asked alms, exhibiting deformed limbs and hideous 
 sores to excite pity. 
 
 A man less fearless than Chabanes would at this 
 period hardly have ventured out alone in Paris 
 after nine. Pickpockets, panders, thieves, and assas- 
 sins were plentiful, and good arms, as well as trusty 
 attendants, were considered requisites for night strolls. 
 Walking down the Rue Gamier sur 1'Eau, the count 
 came to the Rue des Barres. He had once fought a 
 memorable duel in the Rue de la Mortellerie, some 
 steps distant, and idle curiosity prompted him to 
 revisit the spot. He had not yet reached this latter 
 street, however, when he heard the ring of steel and 
 other sounds of fighting, and, as he had been
 
 A SUBJECT AND A SOVEREIGN 193 
 
 inwardly living over the triumphs of his former 
 residence in Paris, the clang of crossing blades 
 awakened in his veins the fever for adventure. 
 
 " Come, Raoul," he cried, apostrophizing himself, 
 "we may yet see some fine sport," and he ran for- 
 ward, guided by the uproar. Just before a high wall 
 that surrounded a garden, in the midst of which stood 
 a small house, the count discovered two gentlemen 
 stoutly defending themselves against the onslaught of 
 a force more than double their number and evidently 
 composed of street-prowlers and assassins. Both 
 gentlemen fenced skilfully, and in an even fight 
 could easily have disposed of the entire lot of night- 
 birds one by one. The overwhelming force, however, 
 that rained blows on them from every side, had 
 pressed them back close to the wall, and, had it not 
 been for the arrival of the count, doubtless would 
 soon have finished the courageous pair. Chabanes, 
 at once realizing the situation, sprang into the m16e, 
 brandishing his sword, and engaged the nearest ruffian 
 with such vigor that the latter was quickly deprived 
 of his weapon and pinned to the ground. The two 
 gentlemen, on seeing this unexpected re-enforcement, 
 renewed their efforts and fought so desperately that 
 their antagonists were forced to drop their blades and 
 take to their heels. 
 
 They had scarcely disappeared in the darkness 
 when the gate in the wall opened, and a tall, pallid 
 man with high, though slightly stooping, shoulders and 
 sharp, penetrating eyes, appeared on the threshold. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said he, in a calm, dignified tone, 
 "what means this unseemly brawling?" 
 
 13
 
 194 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 " We were attacked by five thieves and hard 
 pressed by their numbers, when this gentleman gal- 
 lantly came to our rescue and assisted us to put the 
 villains to flight. One of them lies yonder pierced 
 by his sword, Sire," replied one of the gentlemen ; 
 and with the last word Chabanes learned the identity 
 of their questioner. It was, indeed, Charles IX., 
 King of France. Chabanes hastened to remove his 
 plumed hat and bow profoundly. 
 
 " It seems this gentleman is a stranger to me," 
 continued the king, turning his piercing gaze full on 
 the count, who returned it unflinchingly, a feat that 
 Charles IX. always appreciated, because so few were 
 capable of performing it. 
 
 " Raoul de la Tour d'lvoire, Comte de Chabanes, 
 has the honor of paying his respects to your gracious 
 Majesty," said the count, approaching and making 
 another obeisance. 
 
 " The name is not unknown to me," replied the 
 king, pensively. " If a certain report concerning 
 you is true, Monsieur, it merely serves as an addition 
 to the testimony M. de Sauve has just offered." 
 
 " Sire, I know not to what you refer," said Cha- 
 banes, proudly, " but if it is a good report I trust I 
 am worthy of it." 
 
 " The reply is apt, Monsieur," answered the king, 
 who turned to the others and said, " Messieurs de 
 Sauve and de Landi, you are at liberty to return to 
 the Louvre should you so desire; I shall need no 
 better protection to-night than the sword of the 
 Comte de Chabanes." 
 
 Sauve and Landi bowed, and, after warmly thanking
 
 A SUBJECT AND A SOVEREIGN- 195 
 
 the count for his timely assistance and expressing a 
 hope of meeting him again, retired in the direction of 
 the Louvre. The king came out into the street, 
 closed the door behind him, and had placed the key 
 in the lock when, a sudden thought striking him, he 
 reopened the door, saying, " M. de Chabanes, have 
 the kindness to follow me within." 
 
 The count, who had been futilely attempting to 
 recover from the surprise of his chance meeting with 
 his sovereign, and at the same time to decipher the 
 meaning of the king's words to him, readily obeyed, 
 following the king across the garden and up a narrow 
 staircase, the first landing of which they had scarcely 
 reached when a woman's shrill scream resounded 
 from above. 
 
 " Mon Dieu!" exclaimed the king, hysterically, 
 "what horrible thing has occurred? Proceed, Mon- 
 sieur ; I cannot bear to enter." 
 
 Chabanes rushed past the king to the head of the 
 stairs and threw open a door that barred his way. A 
 beautiful young woman, frozen with horror, was 
 regarding an indistinct object that was moving slowly 
 across the white covering of a console. 
 
 " What is wrong here, Madame? " asked the count, 
 as the woman recoiled on seeing a stranger enter thus 
 abruptly. 
 
 " The beast ! " she cried, in accents of terror. " He 
 will escape, and in the night, while I sleep, he will 
 sting me. For the love of heaven, capture him ! " 
 
 Chabanes advanced to the console, and at once the 
 mystery became clear. The " beast " was a tiny lizard, 
 scarcely longer than his finger, that had managed to
 
 196 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 release itself from a jewelled collar and was intent 
 on seeking sanctuary beneath the covering of the 
 console. The count at once captured the animal, 
 and confined it in a small box evidently intended for 
 that purpose. Then he ran to the door by which he 
 had just entered, where he found the king, in the 
 greatest suspense, waiting without. 
 
 " Tell me what has happened ! " exclaimed the 
 latter, breathlessly. 
 
 " No harm has been done, Sire," replied the count, 
 trying hard to suppress a laugh at the ludicrous fright 
 of both the woman and the king. 
 
 Charles IX. rushed into the chamber and folded 
 the woman to his breast. 
 
 " Tell me all about it, Marie," he said, tenderly. 
 
 " It was the lizard, " replied the woman, not yet re- 
 covered from her fright ; " it had escaped, and might 
 have killed me had not this gentleman bravely 
 intervened." 
 
 " Odious little creature of the Florentine devil ! " 
 exclaimed the king, spying the lizard's box and petu- 
 lantly tossing it out of the window. Then, believing 
 he saw the suspicion of a smile lurking about the 
 corners of the count's mouth, the humor of the situ- 
 ation burst on him and he fell to laughing heartily. 
 
 " What a coward is little Marie Touchet ! " he ex- 
 claimed, kissing the woman, who stood with pouting 
 lips, unable to understand the cause of so much merri- 
 ment at such a time. " M. de Chabanes," he con- 
 tinued, turning gaily to the count, " you have added 
 another life to your list of salvage to-night." 
 
 To see Charles IX. smile and hear him laugh
 
 A SUBJECT AND A SOVEREIGN 197 
 
 heartily was a privilege accorded to few men. No 
 gloomier or more taciturn monarch ever reigned in 
 Christendom than this incarnation of melancholia, who 
 often burst into fits of insane fury, but rarely into 
 laughter. 
 
 " Marie," continued the king, his good-humor in- 
 creasing, " this gentleman who has just rescued you 
 from the monster is the Comte de Chabanes of whom 
 I was speaking to you some time since." 
 
 " Is this the gentleman of Jarnac, Sire ? " asked 
 Marie, wonderingly. 
 
 " This is the gentleman who, clad in an antiquated 
 suit of mail, so gallantly rode into the fiercest charge 
 of the day and rescued his dearest friend from an 
 assassin that struck from behind. He it is, also, who 
 has ever since maintained absolute silence about the 
 matter." 
 
 " But, Sire " began the count, in amazement. 
 
 "You see how much the king must know, Mon- 
 sieur," continued the sovereign, smiling. " There are 
 no secrets from him ! " 
 
 Marie Touchet gazed proudly at her lover-king as 
 he spoke these words. " I thank you, Charles," she 
 said, simply, " for bringing this excellent gentleman 
 here. Doubtless he has saved my life " the king 
 and Chabanes exchanged significant looks " and he 
 is one whose virtue, as you yourself have just said, is 
 more than rare." 
 
 Chabanes felt the color rise to his face at this 
 naive compliment. 
 
 " You see, Sire," he exclaimed, gallantly, " virtue 
 again proves itself its own reward ; for a simple deed
 
 198 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 I am honored above all men but your Majesty with 
 the privilege of kissing this fair lady's hand." And 
 he knelt gracefully, pressing his lips to the white 
 hand that Marie Touchet readily extended. The king 
 smiled with pleasure, and Chabanes was on the point 
 of venturing a request that the king relate how he 
 had gained his information concerning the battle of 
 Jarnac, when the latter, moving toward the door, 
 said, " Come, Monsieur. You have seen what I hold 
 dearest in life, and what few others have had the joy 
 to gaze on, and in return I shall expect you, in every 
 possible event, to protect this woman as I would 
 myself." 
 
 " God grant, Sire," returned the count, " that she 
 shall never require protection ; and if she should, that 
 I may be the instrument of her succor." 
 
 He had often heard of Marie Touchet, Charles IX.'s 
 bonrgeoise mistress, whom the king loved above all 
 persons, and whom he would not permit to come in 
 contact with the intrigue and hypocrisy of the court. 
 
 The king and Chabanes bade farewell to Marie 
 Touchet and descended to the street 
 
 " And now," said the former, when they had started 
 off in the direction of the Louvre, " I shall relieve 
 your natural curiosity, first assuring you that I have 
 jealously guarded your secret, imparting it to no one 
 in the world save Marie, who is my sole and absolute 
 confidante. The English ambassador related to me 
 this story of Jarnac, which was for long the talk of the 
 court, giving as his authority for saying that the name 
 of the brave stranger was your own, a young English- 
 man who fought there in the Huguenot army and who
 
 A SUBJECT AND A SOVEREIGN 199 
 
 had been a spy in mine. I believe his name was 
 Raleigh. In saving the life of M. de Montpensier 
 you have preserved for me one of my most trusted 
 lieutenants, a man to whose efforts much of the suc- 
 cess of my troops has been due." 
 
 Chabanes was at a loss to continue the conversa- 
 tion. He knew the king's jealousy for Anjou, and 
 he fancied he saw in this little eulogy of Montpen- 
 sier a possible shifting in the royal mind of mili- 
 tary glory from the shoulders of the one to those of 
 the other. The sovereign and his subject walked in 
 silence for some minutes. As they neared the 
 Louvre the king said, " I am grateful to you, Mon- 
 sieur, for this meeting and your assistance. I want 
 it to be known that Charles IX. knows and appre- 
 ciates a brave man when he sees one. I would gladly 
 have you of my household, and at the same time I 
 would prefer your loyalty from purely unselfish 
 motives. You are welcome at the Louvre, Monsieur, 
 and from this moment I shall count on you as one of 
 my most faithful subjects." 
 
 " Sire," said the count, whose heart beat high at 
 these words from his sovereign, " I shall always en- 
 deavor to be worthy of the immense honor you have 
 conferred on me to-night. Consider my life and 
 sword ever at your service." 
 
 "And what of your heart and head, Monsieur?" 
 inquired the king, looking him fully in the face. 
 
 " They are entirely yours, Sire."
 
 XVIII 
 
 A PORTRAYAL AND A PROMISE 
 
 ON the following morning the Comte de Chabanes 
 met the Princesse de Montpensier in a corridor of the 
 hotel. 
 
 " Raoul," exclaimed she, " you owe me an explana- 
 tion." 
 
 " That being the case," responded the count, gaily, 
 " what better place can we find for its delivery than 
 the salon here, and what better time than the 
 present?" 
 
 " Assuredly, none," replied Victoire, as the count 
 followed her into a capacious reception-chamber of 
 the H6tel de Montpensier. " Now, in the first place, 
 where have you been these last few days and nights ? 
 Do you know that I have scarcely seen you since we 
 arrived in Paris? " 
 
 " You know, Victoire," replied the count, a tinge 
 of sadness in his voice, " that I am never away from 
 you, even for the shortest time, without being pain- 
 fully aware of it." 
 
 Victoire colored slightly and continued. "You 
 were at the Louvre last night, were you not?" she 
 asked. 
 
 " Yes, and was presented to his Majesty the king, 
 her Majesty the queen-mother, to whom I owe the
 
 A PORTRAYAL AND A PROMISE 2OI 
 
 greatest possible debt of gratitude for having me 
 kept, as a Huguenot suspect, away from Paris and 
 consequently at Champigny with you, and to a host 
 of other personages." 
 
 " All of whom received you with the greatest 
 honor and dignity? " 
 
 " Few of whom paid me the slightest attention 
 until the king, from some whim or other, deigned to 
 give me especial notice ; whereupon my popularity 
 suddenly became something wonderful to behold." 
 
 "But this whim of the king's, Raoul?" inquired the 
 princess, insinuatingly. " Antoinette informs me 
 you were driven here in the royal coach yesterday 
 morning." 
 
 The count briefly related the events of the night, 
 his visit with the king to the residence of Marie 
 Touchet and later to the Louvre, dwelling as lightly 
 as possible on the incident of the fight with the cut- 
 throats and, of course, omitting the king's reference 
 to the battle of Jarnac. 
 
 "And when you had given your allegiance of 
 heart and head to the king at the gate of the 
 Louvre ?" asked Victoire, deeply interested in her 
 friend's adventures. 
 
 " His Majesty bade me au revoir and entered the 
 palace, while I took my journey hereward. I had 
 scarcely proceeded fifty paces, however, when a 
 gentleman of the king's guard came running after me 
 and shouting for me to stop. When he had come up 
 he told me that I was wanted at the Louvre, and that 
 he had been instructed to have me follow him there. 
 At first I thought the king must have regretted show-
 
 2O2 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 ing me so much confidence and that he intended to 
 prevent any damage I might do by relating broadcast 
 the incidents of the evening. Visions of Vincennes 
 and the Bastille arose before me and it was in a 
 gloomy frame of mind that I returned. Instead, how- 
 ever, I was shown to an apartment, superbly furnished, 
 waited upon by a valet, and told that the king desired 
 me to feel at liberty to make the Louvre my home at 
 any time. I dared not refuse the hospitality of the 
 king. 
 
 " In the morning, after breakfast I was conducted to 
 the gate, where the coach awaited me, and I was placed 
 inside by a guardsman, who merely said, ' By order 
 of the king' and whirled away, as I again supposed, 
 to the Bastille or Vincennes, but in reality to the 
 H6tel de Montpensier." 
 
 "And last night?" 
 
 " I impulsively decided to occupy the apartment 
 that had been allotted me." 
 
 " And why has his Majesty shown you such signal 
 and early favor ? " 
 
 "That were difficult to answer. It is probably 
 merely the royal whim, as I said before." 
 
 " And do you feel no fear at being the recipient of 
 so much and so sudden confidence?" 
 
 " I have tried to reason myself into the belief that 
 it bodes no good, but the guilelessness of his Majesty 
 in my regard seems unquestionable." 
 
 " I trust you may not be deceived in that, Raoul," 
 said Victoire, fervently. 
 
 " I am to go to court in two weeks," she continued, 
 presently. " M. le Due de Montpensier, my father-in-
 
 A PORTRAYAL AND A PROMISE 2O3 
 
 law, has secured my appointment in attendance on 
 the queen-mother." 
 
 Chabanes sighed wistfully as he gazed at the 
 beautiful woman, who sat pensively dreaming of 
 triumphs she would have in the great, glittering, and 
 attractive court of France. " You will conquer all, 
 Victoire," he said, gently; "you will be without a 
 rival or a peer." 
 
 " Then, if you think that," said the princess, gaily, 
 "why be so mournful about it? Will you begrudge 
 me the triumphs you predict?" 
 
 "You must judge for yourself, Victoire, as to 
 whether your happiness must not always be my 
 own." 
 
 "There, there," cried the princess, blushing with 
 shame, " forgive me, Raoul ; I know that you would 
 sacrifice much to give me a little pleasure, and that I 
 am the most ungrateful woman in the world." 
 
 " You cannot truthfully so accuse yourself," the 
 count replied, with great earnestness. " Do you not 
 allow me the privilege of often being by your side, of 
 conversing with you, of listening to your voice, and 
 of gazing on your face " He stopped short as 
 though he felt he was transgressing his rights. 
 
 " And you," returned Victoire, laughingly, " at the 
 first opportunity seek adventures in the streets of 
 Paris, hobnob with the king, make nightly visits to 
 his palace, and are presented to, and favored by him 
 before his entire court ! " 
 
 The count moved uneasily in his seat, but did not 
 reply. 
 
 " Tell me about the court, Raoul," said Victoire,
 
 2O4 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 seriously, after another short silence ; " tell me 
 about the queen-mother and the king and Madame 
 yes, above all, Madame. What is she like? Is she 
 as beautiful as they say? Is she so wonderfully 
 fascinating? " 
 
 Marguerite de Valois, the king's beautiful, accom- 
 plished, and alluring sister, was destined to be, as the 
 count saw plainly enough, the sole rival at court that 
 Victoire need fear. He had anticipated her question 
 and had long since decided to tell her at once the 
 whole truth concerning this famous beauty. " It will 
 be far better for Victoire to know," he thought, " with 
 what manner of woman she will have to deal." 
 
 " Madame is indeed beautiful," he said, slowly. 
 " Her complexion is brilliant and unblemished. Her 
 hair is luxuriant and black, though it is generally 
 concealed beneath a coiffure of blonde tresses. Her 
 eyes are grayish-blue, open and piercing, and shaded 
 by long lashes. Her forehead is low and shapely, her 
 mouth red and voluptuous, her chin exquisitely 
 moulded. She has the figure of a nymph and the 
 gait of a queen. Moreover, she is one of the most 
 learned persons in France, speaking several languages 
 fluently and having all the world's wit and philosophy 
 at her fingers' ends, so that she is a most delightful 
 conversationist. Nine-tenths of the court are des- 
 perately in love with her, and the remainder, all 
 women, enviously hate her." 
 
 Victoire listened with incredulous interest. She 
 did not speak at once when the count had finished 
 his eulogium of Madame, but arose from her chair 
 and walked absently about the room. " Is she, then,
 
 A PORTRAYAL AND A PROMISE 2O5 
 
 so absolutely flawless?" she asked, at length, un- 
 consciously stopping before a long mirror to glance 
 at her own radiant reflection. 
 
 " Without doubt," replied Chabanes, with con- 
 viction; "there is none to equal her in all France, 
 with one single exception." 
 
 " Which is ?" 
 
 "The question is unnecessary, as you well know, 
 Victoire." 
 
 The princess continued her absent-minded stroll 
 about the room. Chabanes eyed her pensively as 
 she stepped momentarily before each mirror to 
 arrange here a flower, there a ribbon. 
 
 "And Catherine de Me"dicis ?" she asked, pres- 
 ently. 
 
 " Has been a beautiful woman and is still a handsome 
 one. She is majestic, gracious, fair. More than that, 
 she is cunning, ardent, and polishedly cruel. She 
 dresses superbly. The king and his mother distrust 
 each other as thoroughly as did Agrippina and Nero. 
 He is tall, pale, and not unhandsome ; moody, pet- 
 ulant, and liable to violent outbursts of passion. The 
 Due d'Alengon, his younger brother, is unscrupu- 
 lous, jealous, and distrustful. The Cardinal de Lor- 
 raine is polished, scheming, and vile." 
 
 " Not a very promising picture you draw, surely," 
 said Victoire, adding, " except that of Madame," in a 
 way that made the count turn and gaze at her search- 
 ingly, as though to discover an obscure meaning. 
 
 " And speaking of the Cardinal de Lorraine," con- 
 tinued Victoire, paying no attention to Chabanes' 
 scrutiny, " have you heard the latest rumor concern-
 
 2O6 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 ing M. le Due de Montpensier and Claude, niece of 
 the cardinal and sister of the Due de Guise ? " 
 
 "No; what is it?" 
 
 " That they are to be married." 
 
 Chabanes turned deathly pale. The full meaning 
 of such an alliance was that Victoire and the Due de 
 Guise, through this new relationship, would be 
 thrown together much and often. In a few short 
 moments he lived through the agonies of the jeal- 
 ousies to come when M de Guise and Mme. de 
 Montpensier would discuss the preparations for the 
 marriage, and arrange this function and that, debat- 
 ing the thousand trivial questions that would arise, 
 and, hand-in-hand the unfortunate metaphor would 
 be used cementing their new family ties in innu- 
 merable meetings. 
 
 " Well, you say nothing. Can you express neither 
 surprise nor joy at the news?" asked Victoire, in a 
 bantering tone. 
 
 " Doubtless it will be an excellent political alliance," 
 said Chabanes, dryly. " The houses of Bourbon and 
 Lorraine have not been closely knit in either mar- 
 riage or sympathy of late." 
 
 Another silence followed the count's remark. The 
 princess broke it with, "How goes the war, Raoul? 
 Has Poitiers capitulated ? " 
 
 " No ; nor is it likely to, thanks to M. de Guise," 
 replied the count, who, with all his hatred of the 
 duke, would never disparage the latter's reputation 
 as an intrepid soldier. 
 
 " I should be glad to see M. de Guise," mused the 
 princess to herself.
 
 A PORTRAYAL AND A PROMISE 2O/ 
 
 " As well as M. de Montpensier," said Chabanes, 
 eying her narrowly. 
 
 Victoire started from her chair in amazement. 
 " How do you read my thoughts, Raoul?" she cried, 
 her blue eyes wide open with wonder. 
 
 Chabanes did not reply. 
 
 "Yes, as well as M. de Montpensier," she repeated, 
 with determination, glancing gratefully at the count. 
 
 The latter arose and was about to leave the room, 
 when she went to him and placed her hand confidingly 
 on his arm. 
 
 " You will help me in everything at court, will you 
 not, Raoul? " she asked, earnestly. 
 
 " Trust me ; I will never fail you, Victoire," he 
 said, simply, as he went out into the corridor.
 
 XIX 
 
 A CAMP AND AN INCIDENT 
 
 DURING the two weeks that elapsed before the 
 presentation of the Princesse de Montpensier 
 at court, the Comte de Chabanes devoted to her 
 almost all his time. He scarcely ever left the H6tel 
 de Montpensier, except on errands for Victoire, and 
 he rendered her a thousand assistances daily, all 
 of which she graciously accepted as a matter of 
 course. As the count had predicted, the appearance 
 of Victoire at the Louvre created a profound sensa- 
 tion. She was the recipient of countless compliments 
 from every one, the king himself heading the list with 
 a very gallant speech. 
 
 An hour after she had become known, all the men 
 adored her and most of the women hated her. 
 Catherine de Medicis, fond of adding beauty and 
 grace to her " flying squadron " of the most attractive 
 princesses of France, and seeing in the great beauty 
 of Victoire a powerful factor for influencing the hearts 
 of the court, received her with great apparent cor- 
 diality. Marguerite de Valois, on the contrary, at 
 once conceived a violent dislike for this woman that 
 dared rival her in beauty, even if she was her inferior 
 in matters of learning and accomplishment. Her 
 jealousy was extreme, but, thanks to the foresight of
 
 A CAMP AND AN INCIDENT 2OQ 
 
 Chabanes, who had warned Victoire of Marguerite's 
 probable antagonism, Madame obtained no oppor- 
 tunity to overwhelm the princess with those slights 
 which her facile mind at once occupied itself with 
 inventing. 
 
 Chabanes, already known at court as a favorite of 
 the king, was greatly envied by all the men for the 
 evident trust and confidence that the princess naively 
 reposed in him at all times. His heart beat high at 
 the signal triumph its mistress scored, even while it 
 ached with jealousy at seeing all the men of Europe's 
 most profligate court surround her covetously, shower- 
 ing her with compliments and attentions. 
 
 With her unusual wit and great keenness of per- 
 ception it required but a few weeks' time for the 
 princess to become thoroughly acquainted with the 
 life and characteristics of the court. Chabanes was 
 constantly at her side, moreover, teaching her with 
 all the resources of his penetration to parry the 
 thrusts of her antagonists and to ward off the attacks 
 of her too ardent admirers. Victoire had at once 
 taken up her abode at the Louvre in the train of the 
 queen-mother, and the count decided to occupy per- 
 manently the apartments offered him by the king 
 whose favor gave no signs of diminishing. The 
 interest aroused both by the princess and the count 
 resulted in the history of his residence at Champigny 
 becoming universally known. This the count had 
 anticipated, and, though his attentions to Victoire 
 were constant, he managed adroitly to cover them 
 all with the mantle of friendship, so that even the 
 most malicious tongues had no opportunity to wag 
 
 14
 
 210 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 scandalously. In fact, the friendship of the two was 
 so evident and spontaneous that not the least ink- 
 ling of Chabanes' ardent passion for Victoire ever 
 crossed the mind of gentleman or lady of the court, 
 with the possible exception of the predetermined 
 Due d'Anjou. 
 
 Of course Chabanes' intimacy with Victoire aroused 
 many petty jealousies among those that would have 
 given half they possessed to be the cavalier of this 
 fascinating woman during a single day. It resulted 
 that he had a thousand forces to combat daily, both 
 on behalf of himself and Victoire, and these he skil- 
 fully held in check on every occasion. 
 
 The suspense that hung over the court as to the 
 outcome of the war was in a measure dissipated early 
 in September by the news that the siege of Poitiers 
 at length had been raised. A week later the Amiral 
 de Coligny was hung in effigy on the Place de Greve 
 with great ceremony and reviling of heretics. Three 
 more weeks had scarcely passed when news of the 
 victory of the Catholic arms at Moncontour reached 
 Paris, and the rejoicing was universal. The court 
 resounded with the praises of the Due d'Anjou, 
 who had had three horses shot under him, and who, 
 after the battle, behaved with much magnanimity 
 toward the Huguenot captives, having spared, at his 
 own request, even the life of the Protestant leader 
 La Noue, and by his personal efforts averted much 
 needless bloodshed after the enemy had fled. 
 
 A week after Moncontour came the announcement 
 that the siege of Saint-Jean d'Ange"ly had been begun 
 by the Catholic army, and that the king, accompanied
 
 A CAMP AND AN INCIDENT 211 
 
 by the entire court, would at once repair thither to 
 take personal charge of the operations. 
 
 Chabanes and Victoire went with the court to Saint- 
 Jean d'Angely. To the latter was assigned a chamber 
 in the pavilion erected for the ladies of the royal family, 
 while Chabanes shared the tent of the Prince de 
 Montpensier, whose joy at again seeing his wife and 
 his friend was unbounded. Except for a succession 
 of sorties and attacks, the siege was monotonous from 
 the start, and Catherine de Medicis soon decided to 
 give a series of balls in order to diversify the camp 
 life. The gentlemen of the court were often called 
 on to ride some distance away with the ladies, in order 
 to protect them from foraging parties of the enemy. 
 On such occasions the Due de Guise generally 
 divided his attention between Madame and the Prin- 
 cesse de Montpensier. Chabanes, also, often accom- 
 panied Victoire, giving her every opportunity for the 
 converse with Guise that she loved so well, but always 
 guarding her from being left entirely to the duke. 
 
 As for the prince, he was generally deep in some 
 military problem, consulting with Tavannes and Biron, 
 and often with the king himself. 
 
 One night, when Chabanes and Montpensier were 
 in their tent preparing to retire, they were discussing 
 the incentive that had brought the king to Saint-Jean 
 d'Angely. 
 
 " It is my belief," said the count, " that his Ma- 
 jesty has allowed his jealousy of Anjou to get the 
 better of him. His brother's fame is great, far 
 greater, no doubt, than he deserves, considering the 
 fact that he has acted entirely under the instructions of
 
 212 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 Biron and Tavannes. The king is fretful and suspi- 
 cious, and he fears the popularity of the heir to the 
 throne." 
 
 " His Majesty's conduct on three separate occa- 
 sions," replied the prince, " would warrant the truth 
 of your opinion. He directly disregards all advice, 
 conducting attacks and defences in a manner that 
 would be absurd were it not so serious. If he persist 
 in his present plans, believe me, Raoul, the siege of 
 Saint-Jean d'Angely will last well into the winter, and 
 then, doubtless, the city will capitulate with only 
 nominal advantage to our forces." 
 
 " The king is indeed reckless if he thinks that by 
 making the present campaign a failure he can lessen 
 the fame of his brother. I half-believe that he is also 
 jealous of the Due de Guise, and I am positive that he 
 would like to have emulated his ancestors in leading 
 his own armies instead of intrusting that task to 
 others," said Chabanes, reflectively. 
 
 " M de Guise is paying Madame many attentions," 
 continued Montpensier. " Can it be that the king 
 suspects him of aspiring through her to the throne?" 
 
 "It may be possible," replied Chabanes. "And 
 why not? The Due de Guise is the grandson of Louis 
 XII. His blood is as royal as Madame's. He is 
 handsome, dashing, courageous ; she is beautiful, fas- 
 cinating, the sister of the king. He has audacity ; she, 
 admiration. Tell me, Charles, is there any aim Henri 
 de Guise would not attempt?" 
 
 " I believe there is none," replied Montpensier, 
 bitterly. 
 
 During the silence that ensued, Chabanes reflected
 
 A CAMP AND AN INCIDENT 213 
 
 on the consolation that the attachment of Guise for 
 Madame might have for his friend. There was every 
 possibility of the duke's devoting himself to the king's 
 sister instead of paying his attentions to Victoire, as 
 the prince had doubtless dreaded. 
 
 " Raoul," said the prince, presently, bringing up a 
 threadbare subject, " I have as yet found not the 
 slightest trace of the stranger in antiquated armor 
 that saved my life at Jarnac. Can you not suggest 
 some clue ? " 
 
 " As I have told you, it was doubtless some soldier 
 of fortune eager for adventure," replied the count, in- 
 differently. 
 
 " No, I cannot believe that it was not some friend 
 of mine, some one particularly interested in me. 
 Why, Raoul, did I not know that you were far away 
 at Champigny on the day of the battle, I should not 
 hesitate to name you as the one to whom I owe my 
 life." 
 
 The count smiled sadly and was about to reply, 
 when a sudden uproar was heard without, and a man, 
 half-dressed, burst into the tent. It was Antoine, the 
 Prince de Montpensier's valet. 
 
 " The enemy are preparing for a night attack. 
 Quick, buckle on your sword, Monseigneur ; I beg of 
 you to make haste. The ladies are being removed to 
 a place of safety, and we must prepare to defend our- 
 selves at a moment's notice." 
 
 The count and the prince donned their swords, 
 hung their pistols to their belts, and left the tent. 
 They found the camp in great excitement, this move 
 on the part of the enemy having been entirely unex-
 
 214 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 pected. Only two days before, the Due de Guise, at 
 the head of a small body of horsemen, had repulsed a 
 sortie, driving the enemy back into the town and rid- 
 ing up to the very walls of Saint-Jean d' Angely. 
 
 The enemy were, indeed, making preparations to 
 attack. Montpensier had scarcely time to assume his 
 position at the head of his soldiery, when the ap- 
 proaching Huguenots were heard, and he, together 
 with the other leaders, dashed forth to meet them. 
 
 A full moon shone on the combatants as they en- 
 gaged on the plain before the town, and many of the 
 retiring ladies halted on a neighboring eminence to 
 witness the battle and count their beads for the lovers 
 who were risking their lives below. 
 
 Evidently it had been the intention of the Huguenot 
 leader, who had with him but a comparative handful 
 of foragers, to alarm the camp and retire before being 
 attacked. But so vigilant had been the outposts of 
 the royal army that the Catholics were ready to re- 
 ceive the onslaught and return its impetuosity ten for 
 one. 
 
 The Due de Guise led an hundred men through the 
 scattered line of the enemy, with a half-dozen losses ; 
 the Prince de Montpensier duplicated this action at 
 another point ; and Anjou did not even deem it neces- 
 sary to mount his horse, contenting himself with 
 watching the conflict from the height on which some 
 of the ladies and gentlemen of the court among 
 them Victoire were assembled. The enemy were 
 completely routed at the first charge, and the Catho- 
 lic gentlemen, as was their custom, took advantage of 
 the retreat to execute numerous foolhardy feats.
 
 A CAMP AND AN INCIDENT 21$ 
 
 Guise, bidding his men fall back, rode single-handed 
 and at full speed abreast with one of the retreating 
 Huguenots, whose slightly wounded horse was unable 
 to keep pace with the others, and demanded his sur- 
 render. The brave Huguenot, whose right arm had 
 been shattered by a blow from a Catholic halberd, 
 refused, whereon the duke drew his pistol and laugh- 
 ingly shot him through the chest. The Protestant fell, 
 and his horse raced off in the direction taken by the 
 retreating cavalry. The women and other spectators 
 of this dastardly act at once set up a great cheering, 
 as though an heroic deed had been performed, and 
 Guise dashed back to camp still laughing heartily at 
 his brave jest. 
 
 After the retreat of the Protestants, Montpensier, 
 at the suggestion of Chabanes, had set his men to 
 searching for the wounded among the bodies that 
 bestrewed the field. Both of them had witnessed 
 Guise's cowardly act, and, by a common impulse, 
 when the latter had ridden back to camp, they 
 spurred their horses in the direction of the fallen 
 Huguenot. 
 
 Anger at the duke's brutality sent the hot blood 
 racing through the count's veins as he reached the 
 wounded man first, and, leaping from his horse, knelt 
 beside the prostrate form, placing his head on the 
 Huguenot's breast in order to ascertain if his heart 
 still beat. The Huguenot, who was mortally wounded 
 but not unconscious, at the sound of approaching 
 hoofs had thought that his assailant was returning to 
 complete his act of cowardice. He had managed to 
 take the pistol from his belt and, while Chabanes
 
 2l6 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 knelt over him, he carefully placed the weapon to 
 the back of the latter's head and fired. 
 
 Montpensier had followed close on the heels of the 
 count. He saw the latter kneel and place his head 
 on the wounded man's breast. As he dismounted 
 from his horse, his sword yet unsheathed, he per- 
 ceived the gleam of steel in the Huguenot's hand, 
 and saw him slowly raise the pistol to the count's 
 head. An instant before the man could pull the 
 trigger the prince's sword described an arc and 
 fell with terrific force across the Huguenot's wrist, 
 severing his hand and burying itself deep in his 
 throat, at the very moment the weapon was dis- 
 charged. 
 
 Chabanes fell heavily on his side. Montpensier, 
 beside himself with grief and expecting to find 
 his friend's skull shattered by the ball, knelt ten- 
 derly beside him. The count's face was very white, 
 and a tiny stream of blood trickled out of his hair 
 down his forehead. He was in reality only stunned, 
 as the shot from the Huguenot's pistol had been 
 diverted by the prince's sword, so that it merely 
 inflicted a small scalp wound. The shock of the 
 detonation had rendered him unconscious. A man, 
 who was quickly followed by a score of others, dashed 
 up to the group. 
 
 " Is he dead? " he cried, in accents of sincere grief. 
 
 " Thank God, no ! " replied Montpensier, fervently. 
 " He is only stunned." 
 
 The man, who was Francois, the count's valet, 
 without a word knelt beside his master, and, prying 
 open the latter's jaws, poured from a flask a gener-
 
 A CAMP AND AN INCIDENT 21? 
 
 ous draught of eau de vie down the unconscious 
 man's throat. The count speedily revived and, 
 although still extremely dizzy, was able to mount 
 his horse and ride back to the camp amid the solici- 
 tous attentions of those that had come out to meet 
 him. Victoire was one of the first to felicitate him 
 on his escape from death, tears of joy streaming 
 down her cheeks, which glowed with intense excite- 
 ment. The king, who had also been a witness of the 
 entire incident, sent the count his surgeon, Ambroise 
 Pare", with congratulations. 
 
 "You are quits with M. le Prince now," said the 
 king, when next he saw Chabanes. 
 
 " Your patient is doing well, is he not, Monsieur?" 
 asked Montpensier of Ambroise Pare, as the latter 
 arose and prepared to return to his tent. 
 
 " It is a mere scratch," replied the latter, pleasantly, 
 " it will have healed within the week." 
 
 That evening Victoire visited Chabanes, who lay 
 on his cot in her husband's tent. Montpensier was 
 away conversing with Tavannes, and Francois, who 
 had been staying with the count, left soon after the 
 prince's return. The latter, recalling some point he 
 had overlooked in his discussion with the Marechal, 
 left Victoire and the count alone and returned to 
 Tavannes. 
 
 The princess, who was still weak and nervous as a 
 result of her emotion of the evening, took advantage 
 of the opportunity to tell Chabanes the fright he had 
 caused her. 
 
 "It was babyish in me to cry, Raoul, was it not? 
 But I could not help it. The pistol was fired at
 
 21 8 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 your head, and you fell exactly as though you had 
 been shot ; I thought you were dead. Oh, Raoul ! " 
 she cried, the tears again beginning to flow down her 
 flushed cheeks, as she buried her face in her hands, 
 " please take care of yourself. You are always ready 
 to risk your life recklessly. I was half-mad to-day ! 
 What would I do without you? I thought. Please 
 be careful." 
 
 There were tears of joy in Chabanes' eyes as he 
 gently placed his hand on her head. "Your interest 
 in me, Victoire," he said, softly, " is my safeguard. 
 Now dry your tears and, if you are truly glad that 
 the Huguenot's bullet did not put an end to me, 
 thank the man that saved my life. I think I hear 
 him coming now." 
 
 The Due de Guise had shared in the general sur- 
 prise at the king's decision to direct the siege of the 
 town, realizing with joy that the circumstance was 
 ominous for Anjou, the king's jealousy of whom 
 seemed very apparent. The coming of Victoire was 
 another event for which he was wholly unprepared. 
 Urged by his uncle, the Cardinal de Lorraine, he had 
 of late more firmly resolved to press his suit with 
 Madame, the king's sister, and the presence of the 
 princess made the fulfilment of this resolve most 
 difficult. He had spent his boyhood with Marguerite 
 de Valois, and the two had always been more like 
 brother and sister than Anjou and Madame had ever 
 been. Her great beauty and wit did not influence 
 him as did the charms and fascination of Victoire, 
 but she was a prize for which, if necessary, he would 
 have made any sacrifice. He resolved to devote
 
 A CAMP AND AN INCIDENT 
 
 himself to both women, trusting to his adroitness to 
 arouse neither the jealousy of the one nor the sus- 
 picions of the other. 
 
 However, Marguerite de Valois could not fail to 
 notice the strong attraction that Victoire exerted 
 over the duke, for whom Madame already had a great 
 predilection. Often in her childhood's most secret 
 reveries she had pictured herself sharing with this 
 handsome and majestic youth the great throne of 
 France ; and to this end she had by every possible 
 means fostered the rivalry and hatred that daily aug- 
 mented between her brother, Anjou, and Guise. She 
 threw every possible incentive in the path of Henri 
 de Lorraine, at the same time exerting all her arts to 
 fascinate him. It was this same endeavor, perhaps, 
 that, aside from assuring him of Madame's favor, made 
 Guise, born hunter of men and women that he was, 
 long more eagerly for the pleasures of pursuit which 
 he experienced in wooing Mme. de Montpensier. 
 
 Chabanes noticed much sooner than did Montpen- 
 sier that Guise was daily falling beneath the old spell 
 which the personality of Victoire had always exercised 
 over him. Victoire herself was not unaware of 
 Guise's warmth toward her, but she naively explained 
 it to herself as a fuller reawakening of an old time 
 friendship. The coming marriage of Claude de Lor- 
 raine, Guise's sister, to the Due de Montpensier, 
 naturally formed a topic of great mutual interest to 
 Guise and Victoire, and they laughingly began to 
 call each other " Cousin " on all occasions. The 
 Prince de Montpensier was also compelled by the 
 commonest rules of propriety to stifle, as far as pos-
 
 22O A PAR FIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 sible, his hatred for Guise in an occasional endeavor 
 to converse conventionally with the latter on the ap- 
 proaching alliance of their respective houses. This 
 he did with no good grace, as may be readily imag- 
 ined. After the incident of the wounded Huguenot 
 both he and the count scrupulously avoided Guise, 
 although the latter civilly sent Chabanes his felicita- 
 tions, and his regrets that he should have been the 
 indirect cause of the affair. 
 
 On the night the count was wounded, Victoire 
 stood beside Anjou on the high ground that over- 
 looked the scene of the conflict. Monsieur had been 
 most flatteringly attentive to her since her arrival at 
 Saint-Jean d'Angely. When Guise rode back to 
 camp after shooting the Huguenot, and was received 
 with the cheers of all, she misconstrued his action 
 as one of heroism, thinking that the Huguenot had 
 attacked him, and that he had acted wholly in self- 
 defence. This innocent belief she later imparted 
 to the count, who, happy in the knowledge of the 
 anxiety on his behalf that she had betrayed when 
 he was apparently dead, behaved with his usual for- 
 bearance in speaking ill of the absent, and did 
 not destroy her illusion by correcting her impression 
 of Guise's act. Guise himself, when she mentioned 
 it to him, laughed it off as a matter of slight import, 
 thus heightening her sense of his bravery. With the 
 prince she did not discuss the affair, and, as every 
 one else at camp looked on the duke's act as a huge 
 jest, she did not learn the truth of it. 
 
 Two days after the incident a heavy rain set in and 
 the weather turned unusually cold. The Princesse
 
 A CAMP AND AN INCIDENT 221 
 
 de Montpensier, unaccustomed to such rigors, was 
 seized with a fever, and it was thought best by both 
 the prince and Chabanes to remove her at once to 
 Champigny. Thither they both accompanied her, as 
 did Antoinette de Lerac. Her illness was tolerably 
 severe, lasting more than a fortnight, and it appeared 
 necessary for her to remain at Champigny an equal 
 length of time in order to regain her strength. At 
 the end of the first two weeks the prince was com- 
 pelled to return to Saint-Jean d'Angely and resume 
 his share in the military operations at that place. 
 Victoire being well on the road to health again, he 
 was content to leave her in the care of Chabanes, who 
 watched over her as tenderly as a mother would have 
 guarded her first-born. 
 
 December second the town of Saint-Jean d'Angely 
 finally capitulated, the royal army gaining, as Mont- 
 pensier had predicted, little advantage from the sur- 
 render. The court repaired to Angers and, shortly 
 after, to Paris, where the count, Montpensier, and 
 Victoire, who was completely restored to health, 
 joined it.
 
 XX 
 
 A TRAITOR AND AN EXPEDIENT 
 
 ONE day shortly after the return of the court to 
 Paris the Due d'Anjou was walking with his 
 sister Marguerite in a tennis court at the Louvre, 
 discussing affairs of state, as had been their wont since 
 the days of Jarnac. Shortly after that battle the two 
 had concluded a pact of friendship and allegiance in 
 all ambitious undertakings. The distrust that had 
 formerly inspired both parties to this agreement was 
 now, in some measure, overcome, particularly in the 
 case of Anjou, who believed himself master of his 
 sister's ambitions and assistance. As for Madame, 
 she was too astute not to penetrate quickly the 
 motives of her self-centred brother. 
 
 "What think you, Marguerite," Anjou inquired, 
 anxiously, " of the jealousy the king manifests on all 
 occasions when reference is made to my conduct in 
 the engagements of the war?" 
 
 " Peste ! " replied Madame, disparagingly, " it is a 
 mere whim that will quickly pass." 
 
 None knew better than she the frenzied hatred 
 with which Charles IX. regarded his brother. Anjou 
 was the favorite son of Catherine de Medicis, whose 
 desire to see the son she loved occupying the throne
 
 A TKAITOR AND AN EXPEDIENT 223 
 
 of France was so ardent that the king ever felt him- 
 self in danger of being deposed, or even assassinated. 
 
 " But he persistently treats me with utter disregard, 
 and it was but yesterday that he flew into a violent 
 passion with the queen, our mother, at the mere 
 mention of my name. You cannot deny, Marguerite, 
 that we are in desperate straits -and must devise some 
 speedy means of bettering our position." 
 
 The words were spoken with such deep signifi- 
 cance of tone that Madame was constrained to look 
 her brother squarely in the eye, if possible to dis- 
 cover his meaning. 
 
 " And what plan have you to propose, Henri ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 " No definite plan. You and I have talked before 
 of the eventuality of my reigning in France. You 
 know that the queen, our mother, would not be 
 averse to seeing me on the throne instead of this 
 madman Charles." 
 
 The daring of these words at first filled Madame 
 with horror. She stared at her brother as though she 
 did not believe her senses. " So that is your plan ! " 
 she thought. "You would hasten this eventuality of 
 your reign in France, and ask me to assist you. 
 Henri," she said, aloud, "are you aware that there 
 can be but one king in France? Do you know that 
 the throne never changes occupants except when 
 one dies and the next of kin succeeds him?" 
 
 "That is precisely of what I was thinking a moment 
 ago," replied Anjou, imperturbably. 
 
 " And so you would have me join you in fratricide, 
 my brother?"
 
 224 A PARFIT GEN TIL KNIGHT 
 
 " Fratricide is an ugly word. Let us say I seek 
 your assistance in giving France a beneficial change 
 of rulers." 
 
 " The benefit being derived from your occupancy 
 of the throne?" inquired Marguerite, ironically. 
 
 " With you always as my right hand, sister," replied 
 Monsieur, with great seriousness. 
 
 " But do you not think your plan a trifle audacious ? " 
 continued Madame. Mentally she added, " Mine is 
 similar to yours only in the fact that it is an Henri 
 that both of us desire to make King of France." 
 
 " We are in a desperate plight, Marguerite, and must 
 take desperate chances, if we hope to better ourselves." 
 
 " Does the queen-mother favor such a step ? " 
 
 "Naturally, I have not suggested it to her. But 
 you know well enough, Marguerite, that once we 
 carry it into effect she will not raise serious objections 
 to its results." 
 
 "And Alengon?" 
 
 " Is weak, capricious, distrustful, as you also know. 
 I dare trust him with nothing. He is treachery 
 incarnate." 
 
 " There I believe you are right," assented Madame, 
 with a sigh. " But, brother, is there no other way for 
 us out of our difficulty?" she asked, feigning sym- 
 pathy with his plans. 
 
 " I can think of no other. Charles is utterly un- 
 reasonable and I believe him insane," replied Anjou, 
 in a low tone. 
 
 " And according to your plan, are we two going to 
 accomplish the affair single or rather, double 
 handed?"
 
 A TRAITOR AND AN EXPEDIENT 22$ 
 
 " I have found a fellow that will serve our purpose 
 admirably. Gaston Letroux he is called, and a more 
 skilful assassin never cut a throat. Afterwards, it 
 were a sufficiently easy matter to bring him to the 
 Louvre, and well, there are oubliettes, you know." 
 
 " And when is this Gaston Letroux to find an 
 opportunity for making away with the King of 
 France?" inquired Madame, still endeavoring to 
 draw the entire plot from Anjou. 
 
 " That is simply enough arranged. The King fre- 
 quently goes at night to the house of his mistress, 
 the bourgeoise girl, Marie Touchet, in the Rue des 
 Barres. Often he is accompanied by not more than 
 two or three gentlemen. These remain in the street 
 while the king enters the house. A half-dozen 
 picked swordsmen might easily fall on these guards 
 and run them through. Then when the king emerges 
 from the house he will be at the mercy of the first 
 cut-throat that steals up behind him." 
 
 The coolness with which Anjou related the details 
 of this cold-blooded plot against his brother's life 
 staggered Marguerite. He spoke of this dastardly 
 assassination as he might have mentioned a plan for 
 the strangling of a vicious dog. She retained her 
 composure, however, sufficiently to question him with 
 pretended sympathy, in the hope of learning what 
 further plans he might have made. 
 
 " These five picked swordsmen of whom you 
 speak," she asked ; " where are they to be secured, 
 and how are they to be kept from betraying you 
 us, I mean," she added, hastily, seeing Anjou regard 
 her with surprise.
 
 226 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 " That is also a simple matter," he replied, reas- 
 sured by her interest ; " indeed, that part of the plan 
 has already been tested. I secured five men once 
 before, instructing them, the first time they found two 
 or three gentlemen patrolling the Rue des Barres, to 
 fall on them and run them through. The plan would 
 have succeeded, I later learned, had it not been for 
 the chance appearance on the scene of a third gentle- 
 man, who fought so desperately that my little troop 
 was put to flight. As it was, none of these vagabonds 
 had the slightest idea that the King of France was in- 
 side the little house before which they fought." 
 
 " So these same vagabonds could again be hired to 
 set on the gentlemen that accompany the king to the 
 Rue des Barres, and, provided no third or fourth 
 gentleman puts in his appearance at the wrong time, 
 the gentlemen of the king will be disposed of and the 
 king himself will be at the mercy of Gaston Letroux, 
 than whom no more skilful assassin ever cut a throat, 
 and who will presently depart this life in an oubliette 
 of the Louvre ? " 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 " But this mysterious individual that once succeeded 
 in putting to flight your five vagabonds 
 
 " And killing one of them," added Anjou, compla- 
 cently. 
 
 " And killing one of them," repeated Madame ; " is 
 there any reason why he should not turn up at the 
 wrong moment on another occasion? " 
 
 " There is a very excellent reason for his not re- 
 peating his act of the previous occasion," replied 
 Anjou, quietly.
 
 IT WAS EVIDENT THAT THE PLANS HAD BEEN CAREFULLY LAID
 
 A TRAITOR AND AN EXPEDIENT 22 / 
 
 Marguerite reflected momentarily. It was evident 
 that the plans of Monsieur had been carefully laid and 
 that no detail had been overlooked. " And when will 
 occur the opportunity for the consummation of this 
 this affair?" 
 
 " To-night." 
 
 " To-night ! " 
 
 " To-night." 
 
 " Mon Dieii ! " exclaimed Marguerite, to herself, 
 " what a narrow escape the king, my brother, has 
 had ! " 
 
 The Due d' Anjou was watching her face with great 
 intentness, and she made a brave effort to appear 
 in complete sympathy with his project. " But how 
 do you know," she asked, resolved to make one more 
 effort to find a flaw in his plot, " that this stranger of 
 whom we were just speaking will not happen on 
 the scene at the inopportune moment and thwart 
 everything?" 
 
 " Because he will be one of the gentlemen that 
 accompany the king." 
 
 " And his name is ? " 
 
 " Raoul de la Tour d'lvoire, Comte de Chabanes." 
 
 At this moment the Due d' Alengon approached. 
 Seeing him near them Anjou whispered to his sister, 
 " Are you satisfied? " 
 
 " Yes," she replied, nervously. She was longing 
 for an opportunity to inform the king, the Comte 
 de Chabanes, any one, of her brother's dastardly 
 project. 
 
 Anjou noticed her agitation, at first ascribing it to 
 the natural excitement of the contemplated assassina-
 
 228 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 tion. " In that case," said he, " you need not retire 
 to-night." 
 
 " The queen-mother expects you, Margot," said 
 Alenc_on, advancing, and interrupting this conversation 
 between the two persons in the world whom he most 
 detested seeing together. 
 
 Marguerite seized the opportunity to leave, and 
 hastened at once to the cabinet of Catherine de 
 Medicis. An instant after she had left, a suspicion 
 crossed the mind of Monsieur. " What if she were 
 to betray me ! " he thought, at once resolving to pre- 
 vent any such occurrence. 
 
 In the cabinet of the queen-mother Marguerite 
 found several groups of court ladies and gentlemen 
 conversing. She at once caught sight of Guise and 
 Mme. de Montpensier, who were earnestly conversing 
 in a corner of the room, and her heart leaped with 
 jealousy. The queen-mother was talking with the 
 Cardinal de Lorraine. Madame looked first of all for 
 the king, and, failing to find him, cast a searching 
 glance about the chamber for the distinguished feat- 
 ures of the Comte de Chabanes. He also was absent. 
 She decided to throw herself on the mercy of the 
 queen-mother, and as the Cardinal de Lorraine 
 was just taking his leave of Catherine, Madame 
 approached her mother asking her for a moment's 
 private conversation. 
 
 "Is it something of importance, Margot?" asked 
 Catherine. " If not, I would rather it be deferred for a 
 time, as I am expecting the Portuguese ambassadors." 
 
 " Madame, I implore you," pleaded Marguerite ; 
 " it is a matter of vital importance to us all ! "
 
 A TKAITOR AND AN EXPEDIENT 22$ 
 
 "In which case it should be shared with us all," 
 said Anjou, who, unperceived by Madame, had 
 entered the room and come up behind her. 
 
 Marguerite turned to him defiantly, her eyes flash- 
 ing and her cheeks glowing with disappointment. 
 Anjou returned her gaze with sinister intensity. 
 Neither spoke, but thenceforward there existed be- 
 tween them the most violent hatred; from that 
 moment dated an unceasing conflict that death 
 alone ended. 
 
 Throughout the remainder of the afternoon and 
 evening Anjou followed Marguerite as a jailer would 
 a prisoner in his charge. Nothing could surpass the 
 vigilance with which he surrounded her. A dozen 
 times she attempted to elude him and gain an audi- 
 ence with the king or with some one that would carry 
 a message to his Majesty. Each time he was just 
 behind her ready to thwart her at the moment when 
 success seemed sure. Once she wrote a few words on 
 the hem of her handkerchief and slipped it to a page, 
 telling him to deliver it at once to the king. The 
 page had not gone twenty paces when Monsieur 
 barred his way, relieved him of the handkerchief, and 
 a minute later came out of the queen-mother's cabinet 
 just as Madame, thinking she had at last escaped 
 him, was about to enter. 
 
 Eight o'clock struck, and Marguerite, who had 
 traversed the palace many times in the last four hours, 
 was ready to faint with exhaustion and fright. Doubt- 
 less the king was even now on his way to the Rue des 
 Barres, accompanied by the Comte de Chabanes. In 
 half an hour he would be inside the house of Marie
 
 230 A PARFIT GEN TIL KNIGHT 
 
 Touchet, the count and whoever might be his com- 
 panion would have been killed, and the assassin 
 would be lurking outside in the shadows. In another 
 half-hour the king would emerge, the assassin would 
 creep up behind him, the pistol would be fired or the 
 knife driven home, and the Due d'Anjou, now her 
 bitterest enemy, would be king of France. All this 
 time she was impotent, helpless. No matter what ruse 
 she attempted, Anjou, the murderer, was always there 
 to thwart her plan and silently ridicule her ineffectual 
 efforts. He anticipated her every move and played 
 with her as a cat would play with an exhausted mouse. 
 
 In despair she turned to the first door she saw; 
 she entered and bolted it. Face to face with her stood 
 the Princesse de Montpensier. Marguerite forgot her 
 hatred for her rival in the anguish of the moment. 
 Weeping bitterly she flung herself on her knees before 
 the astounded princess. Victoire gently raised the 
 prostrate woman from the floor and begged her to be 
 seated. 
 
 " My heart bleeds, Madame," said Victoire, in a 
 tone of such indubitable sympathy that Marguerite 
 started as though she had suddenly been acquainted 
 with an entirely new experience, " My heart bleeds 
 to see you so unhappy. I trust that it may be in my 
 humble power to assuage your grief." 
 
 Marguerite ceased crying and dried her eyes. 
 What if this woman could assist her in her extremity ? 
 
 But she dared not tell her that the Due d'Anjou 
 was plotting against her brother's life that he was 
 about to become a regicide. She must think 
 think quickly, devise a plan that the princess might
 
 A TRAITOR AND AN EXPEDIENT 231 
 
 carry out without arousing either her own suspicions 
 or those of Anjou. 
 
 Suddenly she brightened wonderfully; the plan 
 was formed. The Princesse de Montpensier was 
 greatly attached to the Comte de Chabanes. She 
 would doubtless risk much to save his life. More- 
 over, she, of all women, would be most likely to elude 
 Anjou (who Madame felt sure had not seen her 
 enter the apartments of the princess), for he had on 
 all occasions evinced the deepest attachment for 
 her and protested the completest servility. 
 
 "Listen, Madame," she said, eagerly; "one you 
 love much is in great danger. You must go to him 
 at once. Leave the Louvre immediately and let no 
 one stop you. Just across the drawbridge you will 
 find my litter, which I ordered several hours ago but 
 which I have been unable to use. Tell the bearers to 
 take you at once to the Rue des Barres. There you 
 will find two or three gentlemen, one of whom you 
 know. If you arrive in time and Heaven grant 
 you may! you will find them patrolling the street. 
 If you are too late they will be dead. If the former is 
 the case tell them Marguerite de Valois warns them 
 of great and impending danger ; and if it is the latter, 
 go yourself to the house that stands in the little high- 
 walled garden, knock until your knuckles bleed, but 
 get admitted, and tell those within not to stir from the 
 place all night as they value their lives." 
 
 Victoire heard Madame with wonder that ended in 
 excitement. " But tell me, first of all," she cried, as 
 agitated as Marguerite herself, " who is this gentle- 
 man that I know and whose life is in danger? "
 
 232 A PARFIT GENTIL KIVIGHT 
 
 " The Comte de Chabanes." 
 
 " I will go instantly," replied Victoire, without 
 hesitation. " Come, Anne," she added, nervously, to 
 the maid, who had just entered from an inner 
 chamber ; " you are no greater coward than I."
 
 XXI 
 
 A CATASTROPHE AND A FRUSTRATION 
 
 THE princess and her maid threw long black 
 cloaks over their shoulders ; Victoire in passing 
 a table seized a tiny jewelled dagger, and they left the 
 room, Marguerite bolting the door on the inside after 
 them. They had scarely gone twenty paces when 
 they saw the Due d'Anjou approaching. 
 
 " Hide your face in your cloak, Antoinette," whis- 
 pered the princess, and both women slipped past the 
 duke without his recognizing them. 
 
 " Some midnight rendezvous," he thought, satisfied 
 that neither was his sister. . 
 
 The two women passed out of the Louvre and across 
 the drawbridge without finding the slightest trace of 
 Marguerite's litter. The bearers, after having waited 
 in the cold for more than four hours, had come to the 
 conclusion that they were not wanted after all, and 
 had left. 
 
 "Do you know the street, Antoinette ?" inquired 
 Victoire, anxiously. 
 
 " I have seen it," replied the maid, " but I am not 
 sure I can find it again." 
 
 " But we must find it, Anne." 
 
 The two women, hand in hand, rushed off down the 
 first street they came to, turning several times and
 
 234 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 threading, apparently without purpose, the intricacies 
 of the Parisian map. After five minutes of breathless 
 running they came to a halt. 
 
 " This should be it," said Antoinette, when she 
 could catch her breath. 
 
 Victoire burst into tears. She had just recognized 
 the locality as being in a direction precisely opposite 
 the one they required. To add to her discomfiture, 
 two men were seen stealthily slinking toward them 
 in the shadow of a neighboring building. 
 
 " Come, Antoinette," the princess cried, terror- 
 stricken, " we must fly in the opposite direction or 
 we shall fall into these ruffians' hands." 
 
 They turned instantly, keeping to the shadows, and 
 did not cease running until they were almost exhausted. 
 Luckily they had now arrived at the entrance to the 
 Rue des Barres. When they discovered this they ran 
 up the narrow street at full speed. 
 
 In front of the house of Marie Touchet two men 
 were lying in a pool of blood. Instinctively Victoire 
 passed by the first one without looking at his face, 
 and with a cry of anguish knelt beside the second 
 man. He lay face downward, and when with difficulty 
 she turned him on his back and lifted his head, 
 blood gushed from his mouth and nostrils. 
 
 " Bring a light, quick ! " she commanded Antoi- 
 nette, hoarsely. 
 
 The maid ran to a neighboring corner, tore a 
 half-consumed torch from its socket in the wall, and, 
 returning with it, held it over the prostrate form be- 
 side which the princess knelt. 
 
 Victoire and Antoinette simultaneously uttered a
 
 A CATASTROPHE AND A FRUSTRATION 235 
 
 shriek. It was the Comte de Chabanes that lay 
 before them, weltering in his own blood. Victoire, 
 pressing her hand to her forehead, staggered back- 
 ward to the threshold of Marie Touchet's gate and 
 fell on the pavement unconscious. Antoinette burst 
 into hysterical tears, holding the bleeding head of 
 the count in her arms as a child would hold a 
 doll. 
 
 Presently Antoinette began to recover her wits. 
 She placed her hand over Chabanes' heart, and fail- 
 ing to distinguish even the tiniest throb, she substi- 
 tuted her ear for her hand. In doing this her face 
 became smeared with blood, but she paid no attention 
 to the fact. 
 
 She thought she detected a faint sound, and her 
 own heart began to beat wildly. " He lives," she 
 said, eagerly, to herself and aloud. 
 
 Then she sprang to her feet and ran to the door- 
 way where Victoire lay unconscious. As she was 
 about to raise the head of her mistress from the 
 pavement, the gate before her opened and a man 
 appeared in the doorway. 
 
 " Chabanes ! Plontard ! " he called, in an authori- 
 tative tone. He was dazzled by the torch Antoinette 
 held and did not see the two women at his feet. 
 
 " The king ! " exclaimed Antoinette, dropping to 
 her knees in terror. 
 
 A man crawled out of a neighboring shadow and 
 noiselessly tiptoed off down the street. It was Gas- 
 ton Letroux. " So it was the king they wanted me 
 to kill ! " he muttered to himself. " I should have 
 had a hard time doing penance for that sin."
 
 236 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 Charles IX. now perceived the two women on the 
 pavement before him. 
 
 " What is the meaning of all this disorder, my good 
 woman ? " said he, in a tone of annoyance. 
 
 The maid's tongue clove to the roof of her mouth. 
 She made a strenuous effort to speak, but the words 
 would not pronounce themselves. 
 
 " Diable! " said the king to himself, " all these 
 persons are either dead or dumb." 
 
 He reached down and took the torch from the 
 maid's nerveless grasp. Then he held its blaze over 
 Victoire. " Nom de Dieu ! " he exclaimed ; " it is 
 Mme. de Montpensier ! " 
 
 Antoinette found her voice. 
 
 " Your Majesty," she stammered, feebly, " Madame 
 has just fainted. They have murdered the Comte de 
 Chabanes." 
 
 The king followed the direction of her index finger 
 with his eyes till he saw the prostrate forms of his 
 gentlemen. Beyond them at a little distance lay 
 four other bodies that the maid had not noticed 
 before. They were corpses of cut-throats whom the 
 count and his companion who was the Baron de 
 Plontard had killed. 
 
 " A thousand devils ! " cried the king, " but this 
 has been pretty work." 
 
 At that moment the tramp of feet was heard in the 
 Rue Gamier sur 1'Eau. The king, raising his voice, 
 cried, " Ho, there, gentlemen of the Watch ! Help ! 
 Help ! " 
 
 Instantly the Watch came running down the street 
 at full speed.
 
 A CATASTROPHE AND A FRUSTRATION 237 
 
 " The king ! " exclaimed their captain, dropping 
 on one knee. 
 
 " M. le Capitaine," said the king, dryly, " you will 
 despatch two of your men to the Louvre for a litter 
 and a surgeon. The others will help me to carry this 
 lady and these two gentlemen into this garden." 
 
 The men of the Watch at once obeyed. The king 
 entered the house and immediately reappeared, fol- 
 lowed by Marie Touchet, who brought water in a 
 silver ewer. Marie knelt beside the princess and 
 after gently bathing her forehead was rewarded by a 
 faint flush that surmounted her temples. Soon Vic- 
 toire opened her eyes, and her lips formed two or 
 three inarticulate words. " Is he dead? " Marie heard 
 her murmur, presently. 
 
 " We hope not, Madame," replied Marie, gently. 
 
 The king was beside Victoire immediately. 
 
 "You must let me assist you into the house, 
 Madame," he said, raising her to her feet. 
 
 Victoire found that, though somewhat dizzy and 
 greatly exhausted, she could stand. " Sire," she 
 replied, feebly, " I cannot go until I know if M. de 
 Chabanes lives." 
 
 "A surgeon has been sent for, Madame," replied 
 the king, " and the count will be removed to the 
 H6tel de Montpensier at once. He is still alive, 
 though his comrade, the Baron de Plontard, is stone 
 dead." 
 
 In a few moments the surgeon, Ambroise Par6, 
 arrived with a litter, on which the count was placed 
 and quickly carried to the H6tel de Montpensier. 
 Victoire, weak and exhausted, insisted on accom-
 
 238 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 panying them thither, and the king gallantly escorted 
 her to the door of the court. 
 
 " And how does it happen, Madame," he asked, 
 wonderingly, " that you find yourself in the Rue des 
 Barres at such a time ? " 
 
 " Sire, I scarcely know," replied Victoire, whose 
 scattered wits could not formulate an intelligent 
 reply. " My maid came with me ; we were greatly 
 frightened ; how cruel it is Sire, tell me, will he 
 live?" 
 
 " Let us trust so, Madame ; he is a gallant gentle- 
 man. He is very dear to you?" 
 
 " He is my friend, my dearest friend ! " wailed 
 Victoire, disconsolately. 
 
 Ambroise Pare worked with the wounded man for 
 several hours. When he came out of the count's 
 chamber he said to the Prince de Montpensier, who 
 had been waiting impatiently at the door, " Monsieur, 
 your friend is badly wounded. He has received a 
 sword-thrust through the lung and another through 
 the thigh. If he live, thank God for it ! " 
 
 " And," added the surgeon to himself, as he left 
 the h6tel, " thank Ambroise Pare" that the ligature 
 has been substituted for the cautery." 
 
 When the gentlemen of the Civil Watch had ren- 
 dered the desired assistance to the king, they examined 
 the bodies of the vagabonds and found that life still 
 remained in one of them. The captain instructed 
 two of his men to carry the still living cut-throat to a 
 sort of hospital near by, presided over by the sisters 
 of Sainte Catherine. The following day the king sent 
 a messenger to the captain of the Watch. The mes-
 
 A CATASTROPHE AND A FRUSTRATION 239 
 
 senger returned to the Louvre with word that one of 
 the vagabonds was not fatally wounded, and that 
 immediately on his recovery he would be examined 
 with a view to apprehending his accomplices. 
 
 The Due d'Anjou, who, as it may well be imagined, 
 had spent a sleepless night, having learned of the 
 manner in which his plot had miscarried, was on the 
 lookout for just such messengers as the one that came 
 back from the Captain of the Watch. He intercepted 
 the man as he left the king's cabinet. 
 
 "What news have you obtained of last night's 
 events?" he demanded. 
 
 " None, Monseigneur," the messenger replied, 
 " except that one of the assassins will live." 
 
 Anjou scowled ominously. "And where is he 
 now?" he asked, with apparent anxiety. 
 
 " Safe in the care of the sisters of Sainte Catherine, 
 Monseigneur." 
 
 " Very well, then," replied the duke ; " he will be 
 well guarded and we shall learn who are the instigators 
 of this vile plot;" and he walked carelessly away. 
 
 At the entrance to Catherine's cabinet he met his 
 sister Marguerite. Now that his plot had failed, he 
 no longer feared Madame. He knew that she durst 
 not inform either the king or the queen-mother of his 
 complicity in the purposed assassination. The entire 
 influence of Catherine de Medicis with Charles IX. 
 would be exerted in behalf of her favorite son, even, 
 if necessary, against Marguerite. Madame sedu- 
 lously avoided her brother, merely greeting him with 
 a cool nod. She had passed a fearful night, as her 
 haggard face indicated. Toward midnight, crazed
 
 240 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 by her lonely vigil, locked within the chamber of 
 Mme. de Montpensier, she had resolved to brave the 
 cunning of her brother, Anjou, and had rushed out 
 into the corridor, breathless with the weigh of the 
 awful suspense she had been compelled to bear. A 
 man was approaching down the corridor. " Anjou ! " 
 she screamed, in accents of frenzy, rushing forward 
 and throwing her arms about the man's neck. 
 
 " No, not Anjou," was the kindly reply : " France, 
 Margot." 
 
 " Thank God, Sire, thank God ! " cried Marguerite, 
 bursting into the torrent of tears that was the sole 
 possible reaction of her intense mental strain. 
 
 " Why, Margot ! " said the king, gently ; " what has 
 happened?" 
 
 " Oh, Charles, my brother," replied the weeping 
 woman ; " I have had such a terrible dream ! " 
 
 " What a wonderful sympathy exists between us ! " 
 thought the king. In that instant began an ardent 
 and lasting friendship between the two.
 
 XXII 
 
 A TEMPER AND A RECONCILIATION 
 
 ' I V HE marriage of the Due de Montpensier and 
 * Guise's sister, Claude de Lorraine, was solem- 
 nized a few weeks after the wounding of the Comte de 
 Chabanes, without the Prince de Montpensier taking 
 an active interest in the event. He excused himself 
 on the ground of the illness of his friend; and the 
 duke, his father, a thoroughly practical diplomat, 
 knowing the distrust that existed between his son and 
 the Due de Guise, did not press the former to unusual 
 exertions in the exhibition of family interest. The 
 princess, who devoted herself entirely to caring for 
 the stricken count, was also unable to figure promi- 
 nently in the betrothal and wedding ceremonies, and, 
 although she often longed to see Guise again, she 
 was thankful when her father-in-law, in view of 
 Chabanes' condition, took up his residence at the 
 H6tel de Guise and left the H6tel de Montpensier to 
 the uses of the prince. The Catholic and Protestant 
 armies again took the field, and Anjou, Guise, and 
 Montpensier resumed their commands. At court the 
 gossips became active with the reports of the intimacy 
 of Guise with Marguerite de Valois, spread at the 
 instigation of Anjou by his favorite, the Baron du 
 
 Guast. 
 
 16
 
 242 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 Chabanes' illness was most severe, and it was 
 months before he became convalescent. A less 
 vigorous constitution could scarcely have combated 
 the illness that attended his wounds, and the wonder 
 was that the terrible fever through which the count 
 had passed had not resulted in his death. The pro- 
 cess of recovering had necessarily been tedious, and 
 it had afforded Chabanes ample opportunity for re- 
 flection. The tenderness and solicitous care with 
 which those about him had surrounded him were 
 most pleasant to contemplate. Especially had Vic- 
 toire permitted nothing to interfere with her devotion 
 to the count, attending constantly to his desires, an- 
 ticipating his needs, and in a thousand little ways, 
 such as an affectionate woman only can design, making 
 his illness as endurable as possible. 
 
 Chabanes saw with no little joy the depth of interest 
 that Victoire displayed in him. Often she told him of 
 the intense anxiety that had overpowered her when 
 she was uncertain as to whether he would live. He 
 knew that he must be more to her than she realized, 
 and he rejoiced that her anxiety and tenderness for 
 him should not in the least conflict with her deter- 
 mined loyalty to the prince. When he became 
 convalescent she caused his sick-chamber to be 
 freshened in every possible way, hanging the grim 
 oaken panellings with bright-colored tapestries, and 
 tastefully adorning the room with beautiful flowers. 
 She spent many hours reading and conversing with 
 him. In this latter manner she kept him informed 
 of the affairs of court, which she had almost entirely 
 deserted, and of the progress of the war; so that
 
 A TEMPER AND A RECONCILIATION 243 
 
 Chabanes felt that, on his recovery, he would be able 
 to appear at the Louvre with as thorough a knowl- 
 edge of current events as if he had not been out of 
 its life for a single day. Antoinette, when permitted, 
 also rendered herself useful in securing his comfort. 
 As for the Prince de Montpensier, he had spared 
 nothing to prove to his friend the value of a true and 
 unselfish affection. 
 
 This state of affairs naturally prompted the count to 
 renew his resolve to devote his life to fostering the 
 happiness of the prince and Victoire. He gathered 
 daily evidence of the necessity to his friends of a con- 
 fidant that could adjust their differences and guard 
 their domestic relationship from the thousand dis- 
 appointments attendant on a loveless marriage of 
 convenience. He shuddered at the thought of what 
 disasters might have overtaken them had the assassins 
 in the Rue des Barres struck deeper, and his heart 
 was filled with gratitude for the privilege of preserving 
 the happiness of those he best loved. 
 
 When his conscience troubled him through the 
 memory of the one mistake he had made at Cham- 
 pigny, he was able to sincerely console it with the in- 
 dubitable knowledge that not only was he necessary 
 in every way to his heart's mistress but that Mont- 
 pensier's happiness depended in so great measure 
 on the man he loved. The radiant beauty of Victoire, 
 her noble simplicity and innocence, her remarkable 
 wit, and the unconscious tenderness with which she 
 surrounded him, all of which combined to make the 
 count's return to health so pleasant, were offset only 
 by the regret that he was unable to be with her in
 
 244 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 every place, to foresee her dangers, and to fight her 
 battles. 
 
 Being so rarely at court, the princess had become a 
 much less conspicuous figure among the queen- 
 mother's ladies-in-waiting than she had been before 
 Chabanes' illness. The Due de Guise being long 
 absent in the conduct of the war, Marguerite de 
 Valois forgot her hatred of Victoire, and at the same 
 time her gratitude to the latter for having been the 
 means of thwarting Anjou's plot against the king. 
 Victoire having once ventured to ask Madame how 
 she had been aware of her brother's danger, Margue- 
 rite related a well concocted tale about a premo- 
 nition that had suddenly and forcibly possessed her 
 on that very night, iterating that sheer fright had 
 prevented her going in person to the rescue of the 
 king or sending some one more fitted for such a 
 mission than the princess. 
 
 Montpensier, when he saw that his friend's complete 
 recovery was again assured, returned to his troops, 
 participating in the battle of Arnay-le-Duc, the glory 
 of which he again shared with Guise and Anjou. 
 
 In August the count made his first appearance at 
 court since the preceding December. Peace between 
 the Catholics and the Huguenots was concluded on 
 the eighth of the month at Saint-Germain-en-Laye, 
 both parties being weary of a tedious and destructive 
 war. The Pope, Pius V., had written the queen- 
 mother, urging the prosecution of the war, and Philip 
 II. of Spain had offered the king nine thousand men, 
 but Charles IX. joyfully received the announcement 
 that his terms of peace had been accepted. The Dues
 
 A TEMPER AND A RECONCILIATION 245 
 
 de Guise and d'Anjou were again enthusiastically wel- 
 comed at court. The former began at once dividing 
 his attentions between Mme. de Montpensier and 
 Marguerite de Valois. Anjou, whose hatred of his 
 sister had augmented, if anything, behaved toward 
 her on all occasions with effusive hypocrisy, contriv- 
 ing as often as possible to throw her with the Due de 
 Guise. He believed that by this policy he would 
 give color to the rumors of undue intimacy between 
 his sister and Guise, which he had caused his favorite, 
 the Baron du Guast, to scatter broadcast throughout 
 the court. He would also be the means of bringing 
 Guise into extreme disfavor with the king by thus 
 making it appear that the young duke aspired to the 
 hand of Madame. 
 
 Beyond these motives there was one of even greater 
 importance in the eyes of Anjou for his efforts to 
 bring Guise and his sister together as often as possible. 
 He could thus impress Victoire de Montpensier with 
 the general belief that Guise loved Madame, and so 
 ruin any chances of favor in which, in the mind of 
 the prince's wife, Guise might be held. Anjou was 
 not certain as to the position of the princess in regard 
 to Guise. So far she had received his own attentions 
 with no disfavor, quite, as it seemed to him, as she 
 had received those of the Due de Guise. He saw an 
 opportunity for accomplishing a threefold aim in the 
 circulation of rumors against Guise and his sister, and, 
 with his customary lack of scruple, he eagerly seized 
 on it. 
 
 The king received the Comte de Chabanes with 
 marked favor, warmly congratulating him on his re-
 
 246 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 covery, and expressing gratitude for the loyal service 
 the count had rendered him. Indeed the count 
 became the cynosure of all eyes for the first few days. 
 Victoire spent much of her time conversing with the 
 count, in whom she reposed a vast amount of pride. 
 It was impossible to know Chabanes as the true and 
 honorable nobleman that he was, unmarred by hypoc- 
 risy or affectation, strong in mind and body, and 
 fearless partisan of right, without comparing him most 
 favorably with the shallow, vain, and untrustworthy 
 men of the court of Charles IX. Victoire considered 
 none the equal of Chabanes, unless it were the Due 
 de Guise, whose hotheadedness, she thought, was 
 almost his sole defect. Doubtless the duke would 
 have overcome this defect by the time he would have 
 attained the count's age. Still, even then he could 
 not be quite what Raoul had always been ; there was 
 a shade of distinction between them that nothing 
 sufficed to abolish. But they were two great men 
 occupying prominent positions in her mind and heart. 
 Let it not be understood that her feelings toward 
 the two men were similar. She regarded the count as 
 a brother and a confidant, as necessary to her spiritual 
 happiness as was food to her bodily existence, and 
 toward him she felt not the slightest reserve. There 
 was scarcely a thought that crossed her mind that she 
 did not repeat to Chabanes, and she went to him first 
 whenever she felt the need of advice. All this was with 
 the knowledge and sanction of Montpensier, who, 
 though doubtless in his heart he would have preferred 
 that his wife should place her trust equally in himself, 
 could not but feel a certain joy that the man he ad-
 
 A TEMPER AND A RECONCILIATION 247 
 
 mired and loved above all others should be so highly 
 regarded by his wife. If Victoire admired her 
 husband, it was on this account; none could help 
 respecting the unselfishness of his great friendship 
 for Chabanes. 
 
 But Guise was Victoire's hero, Guise the dashing, 
 Guise the brilliant, riding recklessly at the head of 
 his columns, charging with unsurpassed fearlessness 
 the enemies of the king and her religion, and never 
 revealing to her the utter lack of principle that was the 
 basic idea of his character. Chabanes she sought for 
 sympathy; Guise, for admiration. Could there have 
 been combined in one personality the qualities of 
 these two men, as she saw them, she would have loved 
 beyond doubt. The admiration of Chabanes was 
 pleasing to her ; he was loyal, brave,- true, a perfect 
 friend and confidant. But the adulation of Henri de 
 Guise, for which all the women of the court contended, 
 gave her extreme pleasure. Toward her husband 
 her feelings did not change. She was faithful and 
 dutiful as a wife, indulgent in his moments of morose- 
 ness which were none too rare and encouraging 
 when he was cheerful. And the Prince de Montpen- 
 sier daily became more imbued with the belief that 
 his household lacked but one thing, as Chabanes 
 had told him, love. 
 
 Anjou became more and more enamoured of Vic- 
 toire. His intentions toward her were penetrated by 
 half the court, including Chabanes, long before the 
 princess was in the least aware of them. Monsieur 
 became jealous of all that received the slightest 
 recognition from her. Mile, de la Cha'teauneuf, his
 
 248 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 mistress, was forgotten. He began to distrust Cha- 
 banes for his intimacy with Victoire, and, one evening, 
 he imparted this distrust to his confidant, Guast. 
 
 " Louis," he said, pettishly, " what is the position 
 of this omnipresent Comte de Chabanes in the affec- 
 tions of Mme. de Montpensier?" 
 
 " More serious than many of us have imagined, I 
 fear," rejoined the favorite, whose sole ambition was 
 to foster the hatreds of Anjou, that he might serve 
 him in their prosecution and thus retain his hold on 
 the latter's favor. " One might easily be led to 
 believe that they cloaked an amour under an almost 
 impenetrable ostentation of friendship." 
 
 " I have been filled with the same idea of late," 
 continued Monsieur, thoughtfully. 
 
 " And to one that desired the favor of the prin- 
 cess," added Guast, significantly, " it would be of 
 advantage that this count be off the scene, or at 
 least rendered hors de combat" 
 
 The duke eyed his friend narrowly, but did not 
 reply. "The suggestion is not without value," he 
 thought; " I may act on it if opportunity offer." 
 
 Opportunity did offer, as we shall see, and Anjou 
 acted on it. 
 
 Guise, after this last return to court, felt his in- 
 clination for Victoire return with doubled strength. 
 He sought her on all occasions, showing her every 
 attention that was gratifying and indicative of the 
 greatest admiration, and more recklessly than ever 
 risking the jealousy of her husband. Chabanes 
 watched this little drama, in which Victoire, Guise, 
 Anjou, the prince, and himself were the actors, with
 
 A TEMPER AND A RECONCILIATION 249 
 
 extreme uneasiness. He felt that scenes similar to 
 those that had occurred when Guise visited Cham- 
 pigny were liable to be enacted, and he dreaded the 
 consequences of his friend's wrath when once it 
 should be fully aroused against Guise, Anjou, and 
 Victoire, as he dreaded the anguish to which the 
 torments of his own insensate jealousy would sub- 
 ject him. 
 
 Above all things Guise now aimed at the affection 
 of Victoire, and, although he had not the least assur- 
 ance that he had progressed in his suit, he did not 
 lose hope. Since the night at Champigny, when his 
 protestations of passion were interrupted by the 
 Comte de Chabanes, Guise had not directly declared 
 his love to Victoire. Becoming unusually impatient 
 and dissatisfied with their position, he at length de- 
 cided to risk another avowal of passion. 
 
 Being in the cabinet of the queen-mother, who 
 had retired to talk affairs of state with his uncle, 
 the Cardinal de Lorraine, Guise saw Victoire enter 
 the room alone. He approached her with a troubled 
 air and begged for a moment's audience, which was 
 unhesitatingly granted. 
 
 " I am going to surprise and displease you, 
 Madame," he said, in a tone of impatient serious- 
 ness, " by frankly telling you that I have always 
 conserved that passion of which you were formerly 
 aware, and which has so greatly augmented on see- 
 ing you again that neither your severity nor the 
 hatred of M. le Prince de Montpensier, to say nothing 
 of the evident inclinations of the first prince of the 
 realm, can take from it a single jot of its violence."
 
 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 Victoire was taken utterly by surprise. So fierce 
 and rapid was this onslaught that she was unable 
 to control herself sufficiently to forbid the duke to 
 continue. 
 
 " I have respectfully tried to make you aware of 
 my passion by every possible action, but I have 
 begun to fear lest these actions betray it to others, 
 as the actions of M. d'Anjou have betrayed his 
 intentions to half the court; and naturally it is my 
 wish that you' alone should know that I am auda- 
 cious enough to adore you." 
 
 The absurdity of the reference to Anjou, inasmuch 
 as the attentions of Guise to Victoire had vied with 
 those of Monsieur on all occasions, was not manifest 
 to the princess, who, greatly confused, was endeavor- 
 ing to collect her faculties for a reply that would 
 prevent any repetitions of the declaration Guise had 
 just made. Her agitation was extreme, and her lips 
 were scarcely able to frame the words that in torrents 
 crossed her mind. As chance would have it, the 
 Prince de Montpensier, who was seeking his wife, 
 entered the room. The picture that greeted his 
 jealous eye was that of the Due de Guise leaning 
 familiarly over his wife in a semi-triumphant atti- 
 tude of eager expectation, while she, trembling and 
 blushing violently, betrayed the deepest emotion. 
 He was at her side in an instant. 
 
 " Madame," he said, white with rage and in a tone 
 that made no effort to conceal his anger, " I desire 
 your presence in your own apartments at once." 
 
 He turned on his heel without deigning even to 
 notice the presence of Guise, who flushed hotly and
 
 A TEMPER AND A RECONCILIATION 2$l 
 
 seemed about to speak, but discreetly decided to 
 retire. 
 
 Victoire sought her apartments in mortification 
 and despair. She found her husband pacing the 
 floor and clenching his hands in violent anger. 
 
 " Monsieur," she said, summoning all her dignity, 
 "you have done me the honor of requesting my 
 presence here. In what may I be of service to 
 you?" 
 
 " I demand to know, Madame," said Montpensier, 
 without making an effort to control himself, " of 
 what you were conversing with M. de Guise when 
 I entered the cabinet of the queen-mother a moment 
 ago." 
 
 "I shall heed no demands, Monsieur," replied 
 Victoire, simply. 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed the prince, who had expected 
 no such resistance. " Do you dare refuse to tell 
 me ? In that case I shall use my right to draw my 
 own conclusions. But I warn you, Madame, that 
 I am fully cognizant t of the attentions he pays you, 
 as well as of the favor with which you receive them ; 
 and, let me tell you, another instance such as has 
 just occurred will result seriously for yourself and 
 him." 
 
 Victoire maintained her self-control and did not 
 reply. Montpensier's anger was only heightened by 
 this course. 
 
 " Victoire," he said, coming close to her and gazing 
 at her ominously, " you shall heed this. I forbid you 
 under any circumstances to speak again to the Due 
 de Guise."
 
 252 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 Then he darted out of the room, slamming the 
 door after him. Victoire, in tears, sought her oratory 
 and poured out her afflictions to the ever sympathetic 
 marble Virgin above the priedieu. Not long after, 
 Antoinette entered the room and announced that 
 the Comte de Chabanes desired to speak with the 
 princess. 
 
 Victoire received Chabanes eagerly. " Raoul," she 
 cried, gratefully, " I am so glad you have come ! I 
 have been unspeakably miserable." 
 
 " I have been talking to Charles," replied the count, 
 gently. He was very pale, and Victoire imagined 
 that he had had much difficulty in quieting the anger 
 of her husband. The count's torments of jealousy 
 when Montpensier had told him of the scene between 
 Victoire and Guise, added to his grief at the knowl- 
 edge of his dearest friends' lamentable unhappiness, 
 had given him intense pain. He was filled with an 
 immense longing to take the woman in his arms and 
 comfort her with his love, as he felt it capable. 
 
 " I think I have convinced him that he was impulsive 
 and unreasonable, my dear Victoire" he spoke the 
 affectionate adjective with such fervency that she 
 could not help going to his side and tenderly laying 
 her hand in his. Chabanes flushed with pleasure at 
 this mark of esteem and gratitude ; he held the hand 
 tightly and it seemed to him that he gathered greater 
 strength from its contact. " He is going to ask your 
 forgiveness and indulgence for what he realizes was 
 hasty and rude," continued Chabanes, gently. " I 
 know I need not ask you to freely grant him pardon." 
 
 " Raoul," said Victoire, fervently, " how can I ever
 
 A TEMPER AND A RECONCILIATION 253 
 
 thank you ? Was there ever in all the world so true 
 and noble a friend ? " 
 
 Chabanes sighed. " God help me not to disappoint 
 her ! " he prayed, earnestly, beneath his breath. 
 
 " A moment ago, even as I knelt before the image 
 of the Holy Mother, my heart was full of bitterness, 
 besieged by a thousand evil impulses. Now I give 
 you my word that I shall freely forgive and make 
 every effort to forget." 
 
 "Thank you," replied Chabanes, with great sin- 
 cerity. " Charles was very unhappy and penitent a 
 moment after he left you; now his despair must 
 vanish in an instant. Take good care of his peace of 
 mind, Victoire, always; he is a true man, in spite 
 of his rash impulses and his proneness to jealousy. 
 It is always thus with the sensitive, whose spiritual 
 defect should be as readily overlooked as should be 
 the physical deformity of a friend." 
 
 Montpensier entered unannounced. Victoire went 
 to meet him, extending her hand in token of cordial 
 forgiveness. The count smiled approvingly; Mont- 
 pensier went gratefully to his friend's side. 
 
 " Raoul," he said, in a tone that was the direct 
 opposite of that in which, a while before, he had 
 addressed his wife, " the debt of gratitude I owe you 
 can never be paid. No truer friend or nobler man 
 than yourself ever existed. I thank God that He 
 has given me your friendship." 
 
 Chabanes did not reply. His heart overflowed 
 with emotion, and, as he hastened from the room, 
 Victoire remarked that his eyes were glistening with 
 tears.
 
 254 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 " He is all modesty," said the prince to his wife. 
 
 And in the mind of the latter there sprang up anew 
 the old involuntary impulse to compare and contrast 
 the good friend that had just left them with the im- 
 petuous Due de Guise. How much more admirable, 
 all in all, had been the present conduct of Chabanes 
 than that of the duke ! 
 
 As the count left the apartments of the princess 
 he encountered Anjou, whom he saluted civilly and 
 passed at once. 
 
 "Per ma fe!" exclaimed Monsieur to himself, 
 when Chabanes was out of sight. " He even visits 
 her apartments in the daytime ! And in the mean- 
 while I the brother of the king must content 
 myself with, now and then, a moment's converse in 
 my mother's cabinet, or a quarter-hour at a ball, as a 
 hungry dog contents himself with a spare bone that 
 is carelessly tossed him. We shall see what our cut- 
 throat friend at the hospital of the sisters of Sainte 
 Catherine can do for us ! "
 
 XXIII 
 
 A RUMOR AND AN ERROR 
 
 ' I V HE Due de Guise did not approach Victoire 
 * when he saw her at court during the next few 
 days. Daily he was realizing more fully with what 
 utter innocence the princess regarded him, and he 
 saw how important it was to the furthering of his own 
 cause that he, in every way, should encourage her 
 belief in his guilelessness. He cast about him for a 
 means of meeting the requirements of her concep- 
 tion of his character. It was almost madness, he felt, 
 to imagine that there existed in the French court so 
 pure and innocent a soul, and yet even he, the most 
 profligate and dissolute of them all, could not for an 
 instant doubt the ingenuousness of Victoire. She 
 made clear for him his part, and he firmly resolved 
 to play it with all his skill. 
 
 Whenever she left the cabinet of the queen-mother 
 he invariably retired shortly after, in the hope of let- 
 ting her know that his pleasure lay only in her society, 
 and that that of the other ladies of Catherine de 
 Medicis was of no consequence to him. 
 
 One day, when she was about to leave the cabinet 
 for her own apartments, the princess was accosted 
 by the Baron du Guast, who engaged her in con- 
 versation.
 
 256 A PAR FIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 " And what think you, Mme. la Princesse," said he, 
 gaily, " of the rumored marriage ? " 
 
 "What marriage do you mean, Monsieur?" in- 
 quired Victoire. " That of Madame with the King of 
 Portugal?" 
 
 " By my faith, no, Madame. That of Madame with 
 our admirable M. de Guise." 
 
 Victoire was unable to restrain a start of pained 
 surprise. " Indeed, I had not heard of it, Monsieur," 
 she replied, with a violent effort to control herself. 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed Guast, " you have not heard 
 these rumors that have been so freely circulated for 
 weeks ? I forget, though ; the illness of M. de Cha- 
 banes has kept you away from court much of the 
 time, and , has doubtless deprived you of all other 
 interests." 
 
 Victoire was too much occupied with the intima- 
 tion of Guise's relations with Madame to notice the 
 guile with which these last words were uttered. 
 Could such a rumor be true? Was the Due de 
 Guise only deceiving her, then, when he had declared 
 his love? But, after all, what should it matter to 
 her? 
 
 "There is much reason for this rumor, M. le 
 Baron ? " asked Victoire, with ill-affected indifference. 
 
 " Much, indeed, Madame," replied the baron, smil- 
 ing at the effect his words had produced. " I have 
 it from M. d'Anjou himself that not only is M. de 
 Guise madly in love with the king's sister, but the 
 passion is returned by her with double interest. 
 Only last night the Due d'Anjou, who I begin to 
 believe favors M. de Guise's suit, said to the lattqr,
 
 A RUMOR AND AN ERROR 
 
 with whom he had gone to Madame's chamber, 
 ' Would to God thou wert indeed my brother ! ' " 
 
 Guast smiled again. His eye had met the encour- 
 aging glance of the Due d'Anjou, who was watching 
 them from an opposite corner of the room. Victoire's 
 brain was reeling madly. M. de Guise in the 
 chamber of Marguerite de Valois ! The Due d'Anjou 
 favoring his suit ! Madame madly in love with him ! 
 Had she been dreaming, then, when, but a few days 
 before, M. de Guise had sworn his love for her? 
 
 "It would be a good marriage for M. de Guise," 
 were the only words she could find with which to 
 reply. 
 
 Guast permitted her to pass, having accomplished 
 his purpose. " Henri," he said to Anjou, a moment 
 later, " did you notice her agitation ? I cannot tell 
 whether it was the mention of Guise or of Chabanes 
 that worried her most." 
 
 "I fear the former less than the latter now," mut- 
 tered Monsieur, in reply. 
 
 Victoire sought her chamber in mingled despair 
 and resentment. This was the heaviest blow her 
 pride had as yet had to bear, that M. de Guise had, 
 after all, been insincere in his declaration of love. 
 All her nature rebelled against this deceit. What if 
 M. de Guise had gone farther than his rights in de- 
 claring his love? After all, the insult was sufficient, 
 even if the love were indubitable, to say nothing of 
 the added injury of deceit. She resolved to punish 
 the duke by completely ignoring him in the future. 
 No one had ever insulted her as he had, and he must 
 pay for the wound he had inflicted on her pride. 
 
 17
 
 'A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 Her opportunity for vengeance came a few days 
 later when she met the duke at the H6tel de Guise, 
 where resided the Due and Duchesse de Montpensier. 
 Guise was more than ever intoxicated by the beauty 
 of Victoire. An opportunity offering, he arranged to 
 be alone with her in an alcove. 
 
 " Madame," he pleaded, consummately, " if it is 
 the last act of my life, let me tell you again that you 
 are the loveliest princess the world has ever known. 
 Crush me beneath your dainty foot if I seem dishon- 
 orable to you in thus addressing you, but, as God is 
 my witness, I cannot restrain this burning desire to 
 speak to you of my love." 
 
 Victoire flushed hotly at these words. " Monsieur," 
 she said, with all too evident indignation, " I do not 
 understand that it is necessary, on the basis of a 
 childish weakness, that you should have the audacity 
 to declare a passion for a person like me, and cer- 
 tainly not when you love another before all the 
 court ! " 
 
 The heart of Guise, ever a man of wit, leaped with 
 joy as he heard these words from the princess. He 
 needed to consult no one to realize how surely she 
 had betrayed a deeper interest in him almost than he 
 had dared believe he could arouse in her. In a well 
 assumed tone of respectful contrition he replied, " I 
 admit, Madame, that I have not been able wholly to 
 despise the honor of being brother-in-law to my king. 
 But it is my duty to inform you that I am incapable of 
 desiring the heart of another than yourself. If you 
 will do me the honor of listening, I am sure I can 
 exonerate myself in your eyes."
 
 A RUMOR AND AN ERROR 259 
 
 The princess did not reply. She petulantly averted 
 her eyes in evident incredulity. However, as she 
 made no move to leave, Guise saw with evil joy that 
 his audience was granted, and he continued : 
 
 " I shall confess to you that which I would admit 
 to no other person. I swear to you that I have not 
 made the slightest effort to win the favor of Madame, 
 although she has to some extent honored me with it. 
 Indeed, when she has gone so far as to hold before 
 me the possibility of a marriage with her, I have but 
 meanly responded to the honor she has done me. 
 This has been in the face of the desire of all my 
 house, of the Cardinal de Lorraine, my uncle, and 
 of my brothers, all of whom most fully realize the 
 grandeur to which such an alliance would lift the 
 house of Guise. Do you know, Madame, that, though 
 the few attentions that I have been compelled to pay 
 Marguerite de Valois have aroused the enmity for me 
 of the king and of Anjou, I had resolved of late, since 
 you have shown displeasure at my conduct and have 
 betrayed no interest in me, to marry Madame at all 
 hazards. But if the intention displeases you I abandon 
 it from this moment, and I swear never to consider it 
 again." 
 
 Victoire was unable to explain the pleasure the 
 duke's seemingly sincere words gave her. She freely 
 forgave what she had thought an insult, condemning 
 herself for having too hastily misjudged him. She 
 realized, however, that she was treading on dangerous 
 ground. 
 
 " I am astonished that the proud Marguerite should 
 have been as weak as you assure me she has been," 
 she said, evading a direct reply.
 
 260 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 They were interrupted by the entrance of the 
 Duchesse de Montpensier, and, shortly after, Victoire 
 returned to the Louvre. 
 
 Guise was conscious of no little joy at the inadver- 
 tent admission of interest into which Victoire had been 
 led. In imagination he foresaw the success of his 
 suit and the attainment of the love of his enemy's 
 wife, whom already he adored madly. Victoire, when 
 the surprise of the duke's confession had worn off, felt 
 a sense of undefined wrong. Had she not acted the 
 part of an unfaithful wife in even listening to Guise's 
 explanation ? Was it not wrong when she voluntarily 
 heard what she would not dare repeat to her husband ? 
 She was moved to send for the Comte de Chabanes 
 and lay the entire matter before him. He would 
 reproach her, she felt sure. And why should he not? 
 She knelt on her prie-dieu and begged the counsel 
 of the Holy Mother. Little by little the realization of 
 the enormity of her offence grew on her. She had 
 silently listened to the declaration of love of another 
 than her husband without reproaching the audacious 
 suitor. She had tacitly accepted an enormous sacri- 
 fice on the part of a man to whom she had no right 
 to be under such obligations. For the first time 
 since her marriage she had permitted an occurrence 
 that she was afraid to relate to the Comte de Chabanes. 
 Her conscience goaded her mercilessly. In despera- 
 tion she decided to seek counsel of Mother Frangoise, 
 of the sisters of Sainte-Catherine, whom she had been 
 in the habit of visiting. 
 
 Mother Frangoise comforted Victoire with worldly, 
 as well as spiritual, advice. Her offence, the sister
 
 A RUMOR AND AN ERROR 26 1 
 
 told her, was smaller than she imagined it to be. No 
 great harm had been done unless she should allow the 
 occurrence to be repeated or give further encourage- 
 ment to the Due de Guise. Victoire returned to the 
 Louvre in a more cheerful frame of mind than she 
 had left it. 
 
 " My dear Mother Franchise," she said, however, 
 before leaving the convent, " I am filled with a vague 
 premonition of much evil, evil that may result in 
 my returning here as a last and a permanent refuge. 
 Do not be surprised if, some day, I come to you 
 never again to leave you." 
 
 " Right welcome you will be, my daughter," replied 
 the nun, sincerely; and she added to herself, after 
 Victoire had departed, " I cannot but believe that 
 the sooner she renounces the worldliness of the court, 
 for contact with which she is so ill-fitted, the better it 
 will be for her immortal soul." 
 
 For more than a week Victoire ignored Guise, who 
 accepted the treatment with apparent humility, mak- 
 ing no effort to approach the princess, but always 
 pretending to avoid Marguerite de Valois. This 
 conduct was not without its effect on Victoire, and, 
 almost before she knew it, she began to feel that 
 she was doing the duke an injustice and that she 
 should not behave toward him with such utter 
 severity. 
 
 Meeting him on several occasions at the H6tel de 
 Guise, she granted him short audiences, during 
 which he discreetly confined the expression of his 
 passion to languishing glances and the most scrupu- 
 lous attention to all her desires.
 
 262 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 Several times when the duke artfully mentioned 
 the name of the king's sister, he was gratified to note 
 renewed evidences of jealousy on the part of the 
 princess. She would immediately become cold and 
 distant toward him, and he found no little difficulty 
 in extricating himself from the contempt with which 
 she would then shower him. 
 
 Both Chabanes and the prince saw only the distant 
 manner with which Victoire began to treat Guise 
 whenever she met him at court. Montpensier was 
 immensely gratified by this, and all his suspicion was 
 speedily disarmed. Chabanes, however, being more 
 thoroughly acquainted with Victoire's fondness for 
 the young duke, could not restrain a feeling of vague 
 mistrust at her sudden change of course in regard to 
 him. 
 
 Early in October, in view of his coming marriage 
 with Elizabeth of Austria, the king gave a grand ball 
 at the Louvre. The old palace was brilliantly lighted, 
 and thronged with gaily dressed courtiers and pages. 
 The Princesse de Montpensier took part in a ballet 
 in which danced all the beauties of the court, includ- 
 ing Marguerite de Valois. The Due d'Anjou led an 
 " Entree of Moors," in which participated the Due de 
 Guise and four other gentlemen. As was customary, 
 the six men were all apparelled exactly alike, in 
 black velvet doublets, black silk hose, and dark 
 cloaks. Each of them also wore a black mask. The 
 Comte de Chabanes, pleading as an excuse his recent 
 illness and incomplete recovery of strength, did not 
 take part in any of the dances. His pride in the 
 beauty and grace of the princess was wonderfully
 
 A RUMOR AND AN ERROR 26$ 
 
 gratified by the triumph she gained in her part of 
 the ballet, which occurred before the other dances. 
 
 He was congratulating her on her remarkable 
 success when the Due de Guise, who had not yet 
 assumed his mask, approached them. At the same 
 moment, the king evincing a desire to speak to him, 
 Chabanes left Victoire's side. When he returned to 
 her a moment later she was deeply agitated and 
 Guise was just moving away. The count at once 
 observed that the Prince de Montpensier, who was 
 watching his wife from another part of the hall, wore 
 an expression of intense anger. Evidently he was 
 incensed at the princess' having allowed Guise to 
 speak to her alone. A few moments later the count 
 excused himself and crossed to where the prince 
 stood, with the intention of calming the latter's ap- 
 prehensions, if opportunity offered. 
 
 Victoire, who was for a moment left alone, saw the 
 Due d'Anjou approaching. Being in the same cos- 
 tume as that worn by Guise and masked, she mistook 
 Anjou for the former, and, taking advantage of a 
 moment when the prince had turned his back, she 
 beckoned Monsieur to her. Delighted at the favor 
 of her notice, Anjou was instantly at her side. 
 
 " Have eyes only for Madame to-night," whispered 
 Victoire, who had noted her husband's angry coun- 
 tenance, as she supposed, to Guise, but instead to 
 Anjou ; " I shall not be in the least jealous. I 
 am being watched, and you must not approach me 
 again." 
 
 Anjou, stunned by this unexpected remark, moved 
 away in amazement. "What does she mean?" he
 
 264 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 asked himself. "Per ma ft ! I have a successful 
 rival, then ; and beyond a doubt, it is Guise ! It is 
 he, then, that has won the affections of the lady I 
 have so hopelessly pursued. He is to have eyes only 
 for Madame, and still not incur her jealousy. So M. 
 de Guise has bought the affections of Mme. la Prin- 
 cesse, and my sister, Marguerite de Valois, is the 
 price he has paid ! The king shall know of this." 
 
 The moment for the " Entree of Moors " had 
 arrived, and Anjou was compelled to take his place 
 at the head of his assistants. Chabanes, who had 
 observed the princess speaking to Anjou, watched the 
 latter narrowly. He was astonished to see, as indeed 
 was every one else, that the duke, in contrast with his 
 usual grace and agility, performed the dance with the 
 utmost awkwardness, continually losing step, and in 
 many other ways marring the beauty of the exercise. 
 The count at once connected in his mind the words 
 Victoire had spoken to Anjou with the remarkable 
 manner in which Monsieur led the ballet. He was 
 filled with a vague feeling of uneasiness, and he de- 
 termined to seek the princess and ask what she had 
 said to Monsieur. Victoire, however, had retired to 
 change her costume and Chabanes was unable to 
 find her. 
 
 The hall being crowded and the windows hermeti- 
 cally closed, the atmosphere was becoming stifling. 
 Chabanes withdrew to a small curtained alcove and 
 opened a window that looked out on the courtyard, 
 determined to get a breath of fresh air. He had 
 scarcely done so when he heard voices without and 
 he saw, through an opening between two curtains,
 
 A RUMOR AND AN ERROR 26$ 
 
 the Due de Guise and Monsieur, both unmasked, 
 walking slowly toward him and conversing heatedly. 
 That portion of the hall was deserted and the two 
 young men had raised their voices so that the count 
 could distinctly hear what they were saying. 
 
 " It is too much, Monsieur ! " angrily exclaimed 
 Anjou. " You have not only dared raise your eyes 
 to my sister, but you have bought, at the sacrifice of 
 her, the affections of Mme. de Montpensier. Con- 
 sideration for the king, my brother, forbids me to 
 instantly wreak my vengeance on you for this insult. 
 Remember, however, that the loss of your life will be, 
 perhaps, the least punishment I shall inflict on your 
 temerity ! " 
 
 " Monsieur," replied Guise, haughtily, " you forget 
 yourself to thus address the grandson of Louis XII. 
 Take care lest I make you digest your spleen." 
 
 " And do you expect me to swallow your threats, 
 Monsieur?" demanded Anjou, beside himself with 
 rage. " Take that, hound ! " and he struck Guise full 
 in the face with his glove. 
 
 The latter colored furiously. " You will doubtless 
 adopt the cowardly subterfuge that, being the king's 
 brother, you cannot fight me," hissed Guise, making 
 a violent effort to control himself. 
 
 " On the contrary. I will belittle myself by cross- 
 ing swords with you this night, and, before I have 
 finished with you, you will have fully atoned for your 
 insolence." 
 
 Guise had partially regained his composure. " I 
 have a vacant house in the Rue Saint-Denis that you 
 know ; I will meet you there alone, with sword and
 
 266 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 dagger, at midnight," he said, his eyes gleaming with 
 suppressed hatred. 
 
 " Agreed," replied Anjou, grimly, and, turning on 
 his heel, he walked to the other side of the hall, mak- 
 ing a strong effort to conceal his emotion. Guise at 
 once left the hall in an opposite direction.
 
 XXIV 
 
 A DUEL AND AN INTERRUPTION 
 
 AT the first words he had heard Anjou utter as 
 Monsieur approached with Guise, the Comte 
 de Chabanes was petrified with horror. He could 
 scarcely believe his senses when they exhibited to 
 him the two greatest princes in France quarrelling 
 in deadly hatred over the woman he loved, and who 
 he was positive had not given either the least grounds 
 for a claim on her affections. His first impulse was 
 to spring forth, denounce them both as unprincipled 
 liars, and cast his gloves in their faces. The utter 
 ruin in which such a course would involve, not only 
 himself, but his friends, restrained him. He heard 
 without listening the remainder of the dialogue, which 
 seemed more like a hallucination than a reality. His 
 love for Victoire prompted him at once to view the 
 affair from her standpoint, and he saw that the pro- 
 posed duel between the dukes would result in disaster, 
 not only to the reputation of his heart's mistress, but 
 to the happiness of his friend. He at once resolved 
 to prevent the affair at any cost. 
 
 When the dukes had both departed he came out of 
 the alcove and he managed to leave the hall without 
 being observed. As he rushed down the corridor he 
 was stopped by Antoinette.
 
 268 A PS1RFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 " M. de Chabanes," she cried, in extreme agitation, 
 " I have just seen the Due de Guise. He told me to 
 go at once to Mme. de Montpensier and tell her that 
 he was about to fight with the Due d'Anjou and to 
 assure her of his eternal devotion. What does he 
 mean, M. le Comte?" 
 
 " He means, Antoinette," said Chabanes, as he 
 hastened past her, " that there are strange adven- 
 tures on hand to-night. Speak of them to none 
 except to give your mistress the reassurance of my 
 fidelity." 
 
 The Due d'Anjou, on leaving Guise, at once ascer- 
 tained the time. It was an hour before midnight. 
 He had started to his apartments when he encoun- 
 tered Victoire, radiant in a new costume and anxious 
 to participate in the remainder of the festivities. A 
 sudden inspiration possessed Monsieur, and he ap- 
 proached the princess deferentially. 
 
 "Will you grant me a moment's audience, Prin- 
 cess?" he asked, imploringly. 
 
 " With pleasure, Monsieur," replied Victoire, lightly. 
 " Is it some affair of state that you desire to discuss 
 with me? " 
 
 " It is still more serious, Madame ; it is an affair of 
 the heart, and also of the sword." 
 
 Victoire pouted enchantingly. " I am sick of these 
 affairs of the heart, Monsieur," she replied ; " please 
 make your story as interesting as possible." 
 
 Naturally Anjou did not enter into her spirit of 
 humor. " Madame," he said, sadly, " I cannot but 
 feel it my duty to inform you that the Due de Guise 
 does not merit that you favor him to my prejudice.
 
 A DUEL AND AN INTERRUPTION 269 
 
 Do not interrupt me, I beg of you, to contradict a 
 truth of which I am only too positive. He is deceiv- 
 ing you, Madame, and he sacrifices you to my sister 
 as he sacrifices her to you. He is a man capable only 
 of ambition. Of course, since he has pleased you, I 
 suppose I ought not to speak to you of him. But I 
 cannot leave you, to go, possibly, to my death, with- 
 out first giving you these words of warning. Believe 
 me, I shall never oppose a fortune which I shall 
 always believe I merited more than he. It is already 
 too much to have been able to attract only your in- 
 difference. I do not wish it to be succeeded by 
 hatred through my importuning you further with the 
 most faithful passion that has ever existed." 
 
 Monsieur hesitated as though he could no longer 
 find the words he would use. Victoire, filled with 
 amazement and grief, was astonished to see that his 
 eyes were full of tears, so great was the emotional 
 strain under which he labored. She had no oppor- 
 tunity to reply, as Monsieur at once left her and 
 retired to his apartments. 
 
 After her wonder had passed, Victoire's first feeling 
 was one of intense indignation against Guise, who, she 
 was convinced, had been false to her in relating to 
 Monsieur her interest in him. And how he must 
 have exaggerated it ! How many others thus shared 
 the confidence of M. de Guise? How soon would 
 reports of her relations with him become common 
 throughout the court? What would Raoul and her 
 husband do when they heard of these confidences of 
 M. de Guise? 
 
 She did not enter the hall, but returned in grief to
 
 2/0 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 her chamber. There she found Antoinette in great 
 agitation. 
 
 " Madame ! " cried the maid. " What has hap- 
 pened to-night?" 
 
 " In truth, I know not, Antoinette," replied Vic- 
 toire, sadly. " I only fear. But why are you so 
 nervous?" 
 
 "A half-hour ago I met M. de Guise in the cor- 
 ridor. He was about to leave the Louvre and he 
 stopped me, saying, 'Tell your mistress that I am 
 about to fight with the Due d'Anjou, and assure 
 her of my eternal devotion.'" 
 
 " Ah, the wretch ! " thought Victoire. " He has 
 regretted letting Monsieur into his confidence, and 
 thinks to regain my favor by fighting a duel that 
 will, instead, plunge us all into ruin ! " 
 
 " And I also met M. de Chabanes," continued the 
 maid, excitedly. " He too was leaving the Louvre, 
 and when I related to him what M. de Guise had 
 just said and asked him what it all meant, he replied : 
 ' It means that there are strange adventures on hand 
 to-night ; speak of them to none except to give your 
 mistress the reassurance of my fidelity.' " 
 
 " Faithful Raoul ! " exclaimed Victoire. " He, too, 
 fears something. He is working for my inter- 
 ests. Heaven help him to avert the threatened 
 disaster ! " 
 
 Through the open window they heard the watch- 
 man in the tower of Saint-Germain 1'Auxerrois call 
 the hour of midnight. 
 
 " Come, Antoinette," cried Victoire, tortured by a 
 thousand conflicting fears and emotions ; " let us
 
 A DUEL AND AN INTERRUPTION 2JI 
 
 seek the convent of Sainte Catherine. My heart is 
 bursting ! " 
 
 The two women hastily wrapped themselves in 
 their cloaks and left the Louvre. At the request 
 of the princess, a detachment of the night watch 
 accompanied them to the convent. 
 
 At midnight the Due d'Anjou had entered the 
 house in the Rue Saint Denis that Guise had indi- 
 cated. He had perceived from without a light burn- 
 ing in a window of the second story, so he at once 
 mounted the stairs and entered the room whence 
 emanated this light. The Due de Guise, seated 
 before a table, on which were placed his sword and 
 dagger, awaited him. 
 
 " You are punctual, Monsieur," said Guise, rising 
 and bowing ceremoniously. 
 
 Anjou stiffly returned the salute, threw off his 
 cloak, and, unbuckling his sword, laid it across the 
 table beside that of Guise. 
 
 " As you have doubtless reflected, Monsieur," said 
 he, coolly, " the news of this affair will result in much 
 excitement throughout France. The details of it 
 will be variously reported. Let me beg of you, in 
 case I may prove the unsuccessful party to the 
 meeting, that you will express on my behalf my 
 perfect confidence in the fairness of my opponent." 
 
 " I was about to make the same request of you, 
 Monsieur," replied Guise, who was unable to deter- 
 mine whether Anjou spoke sarcastically ; " I shall 
 be honored by the fulfilment of your desire." 
 
 " And I also will deem the pleasure entirely mine," 
 replied Monsieur, and this time Guise could not mis-
 
 2/2 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 take the ironical leer that spread over his antagonist's 
 face. 
 
 Guise made no reply, significantly taking his sword 
 and dagger from the table, after rolling back his lace 
 cuffs. Anjou at once followed his example and the 
 two men, facing each other and bowing simultane- 
 ously, crossed their weapons. 
 
 There could scarcely have been found in all 
 France two men better matched for endurance and 
 skill in the handling of the rapier. Each fenced 
 cautiously at first, feeling for the other's weaknesses 
 and memorizing them for use in a future stage of 
 the combat. A dozen candles shed their feeble 
 rays on the scene, a large room with a bare wooden 
 floor and walls hung with dingy tapestries. A nar- 
 row gallery around the upper part of the chamber 
 gave it a semblance of unusual height. At one end 
 of the room a door scarcely visible through the 
 upper gloom opened on this gallery. This door 
 led to a small balcony that hung near the roof of 
 the building. 
 
 Guise allowed his antagonist to take the offen- 
 sive, contenting himself with parrying the dangerous 
 thrusts and mentally noting the limits of Anjou's 
 versatility as a swordsman. When he had done this 
 he felt that he possessed the advantage, if, indeed, 
 advantage there was. Anjou attacked dexterously 
 and with excellent address. He saw at once his 
 inability to break down the guard that Guise pre- 
 sented, and he resolved to rely on his skill to pene- 
 trate it. For some moments neither of the men 
 brought his dagger into play. At length Monsieur
 
 A DUEL AND AN INTERRUPTION 2/3 
 
 cut viciously with his "foi de gentilhomme" as the 
 smaller weapon was termed, having executed a 
 quarte de pied that momentarily impaired the use- 
 fulness of Guise's sword. . The latter was wait- 
 ing for the dagger and he deftly turned its point 
 with his own, at the same time, with a well calcu- 
 lated feint, pressing Monsieur to retreat a step. 
 
 " A poisoned weapon would offer a great advan- 
 tage to either of us, Monsieur," suggested Guise, 
 his eyes gleaming ominously from beneath his con- 
 tracted brows. 
 
 Anjou looked questioningly at his antagonist. 
 " Let us trust that both of us have to this moment 
 forgotten that fact," he said, lightly. 
 
 " Rene", the Florentine perfumer, is said to be very 
 skilful in the poisoning of dagger-points," insinuated 
 Guise. It was evident to Monsieur that his rival 
 desired to anger him. 
 
 " Indeed ? " said Anjou, slightly raising his eye- 
 brows. 
 
 " Rene is also the devoted servant of the queen- 
 mother," continued Guise, in the same tone ; " it 
 would have been a simple matter for Monsieur 
 to have unwittingly taken one of her Majesty's 
 weapons." 
 
 " Doubtless," replied Anjou, laconically. He had 
 set about recovering his ground, which he did with 
 so fierce an onslaught that Guise was forced to drop 
 conversation and exert every faculty in his own 
 defence. The tide of conflict then turned, Guise 
 becoming the aggressor, and Monsieur was given 
 an opportunity to demonstrate his skill in parrying 
 
 18
 
 2/4 A PARFIT GEN TIL KNIGHT 
 
 the thrusts and lunges with which Guise attempted 
 to overwhelm him. All at once Guise slipped, 
 staggered, and, in recovering himself, lowered his 
 guard. Monsieur's point was at his chest and 
 Guise's dagger was on the floor. A trifling pres- 
 sure and the head of the house of Guise would 
 be pinned to the floor, and Henri d'Anjou was not 
 the one to relent at such a moment. All this 
 instantly flashed before the mind of Guise. He 
 knew that he was about to fall. 
 
 In the same instant the noise of some one pounding 
 violently on the outer door was heard. Anjou started 
 and lost his advantage. Guise, with the rapidity of a 
 lightning-flash, recovered his dagger and stood on his 
 guard, smiling triumphantly. Anjou gritted his teeth 
 and renewed the attack. The pounding below, re- 
 ceiving no response, soon ceased. 
 
 This time Guise was compelled to retreat a 
 step. Anjou's point" played dangerously near the 
 other's face so close at one time that Monsieur 
 imagined he saw blood start from his antagonist's 
 forehead. 
 
 " A hit ! " he exclaimed, maliciously. 
 
 " Not quite," answered Guise, calmly. 
 
 Anjou redoubled his efforts ; Guise noted this with 
 a smile. Monsieur would soon tire himself. Indeed, 
 Monsieur himself began to realize this. He gradu- 
 ally moderated the vehemence of his attack, and, as 
 gradually, Guise again became the aggressor. 
 
 However, Guise was unfortunate; he slipped again. 
 This time he dropped his sword in attempting to 
 recover his equilibrium, and Anjou's point again
 
 AT THAT POINT THE DOOR ON THE GALLERY OPENED
 
 A DUEL AND AN INTERRUPTION 2?$ 
 
 sought his rival's chest. Guise uttered a sigh of 
 resignation to his fate. 
 
 At that moment a noise was heard above, the door 
 on the gallery opened, and a man appeared outlined 
 against a background of yellow moonlight. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said he, calmly, " will you do me 
 the honor of desisting for a moment? " 
 
 Anjou, with a curse, dropped his blade, and both 
 turned to stare with astonishment at their unexpected 
 interrupter. It was the Comte de Chabanes. 
 
 " Really, M. le Comte," replied Guise, laughingly, 
 "the honor is most agreeable to me. I had awk- 
 wardly dropped my sword and was about to receive 
 the point of Monsieur's when you spoke." 
 
 Chabanes had walked around the gallery to a small 
 staircase on one side and had descended to where the 
 men stood. Anjou was not disposed to regard the 
 advent of the count as cheerfully as was Guise. He 
 felt that he had been twice cheated of an advantage 
 that would have ended the duel in his favor. 
 
 " By what right, Monsieur," he asked, coldly, 
 " do you interrupt an affair in which you have no 
 concern?" 
 
 " The right of a loyal subject of his Majesty the 
 King of France, Monseigneur," replied Chabanes, 
 calmly folding his arms. 
 
 "Whose representative you are, no doubt," said 
 Guise, with a sneer. 
 
 " Whose representative every true gentleman should 
 always constitute himself. The king has forbidden 
 duelling. Is this a praiseworthy example that you 
 set his subjects, Monsieur?" he asked, turning to
 
 2/6 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 Anjou, who was writhing in anger at such an affront 
 thus offered to the first prince of the realm. 
 
 " I warn you, Monsieur," Anjou cried, with a 
 threatening motion of his sword, " that you shall pay 
 dearly for this insolence." 
 
 " Be that as it may, Monsieur," replied Chabanes, 
 firmly and without unfolding his arms. " I shall at 
 least have done my duty to my king." 
 
 " But do me the honor, first of all," broke in Guise, 
 " of telling me how the devil you happened here at 
 this time." 
 
 "Simply enough, Monsieur; I was unwittingly 
 caused to overhear the conversation that passed 
 between you two gentlemen immediately after the 
 ' Entree of Moors ' to-night. Later I learned from a 
 servant the direction in which you had both gone 
 after leaving the Louvre. I was in search of a 
 deserted house where a duel was being fought, and I 
 was for some time unsuccessful. At length chance 
 led me here ; I saw the light above and heard the 
 ring of the crossing swords. I knocked below and 
 received no answer. I tried other means of ingress 
 without avail. I at length discovered the little 
 balcony above, and, by the aid of the large tree whose 
 branches overhang the roof, I was able to enter the 
 house, as you have seen." 
 
 " And your purpose in coming here was ? " asked 
 Guise, amazed at Chabanes' coolness. 
 
 " To prevent this duel." 
 
 " Let me inform you, then, Monsieur," said Anjou, 
 consumed with rage, " that you will fail in your pur- 
 pose. I warn you, on penalty of your life, not to
 
 A DUEL AND AN INTERRUPTION 2/7 
 
 interfere. Come, Monsieur," he added, to Guise, 
 " we are losing time." 
 
 The swords of the two antagonists crossed and rang. 
 At the same time Chabanes' sword flashed from its 
 scabbard and knocked up the other two with such 
 force that that of Anjou flew from his grasp into a 
 corner of the room. The count quietly sheathed his 
 own blade, recovered that of Monsieur, and, after pre- 
 senting it to him, he took up the conversation. 
 
 " Gentlemen, it is incredible that the two greatest 
 princes of the kingdom should simultaneously violate 
 his Majesty's strict ordinance. At least grant me that 
 one of you shall not be guilty of this. I am more 
 willing to take on myself the odium of the offence, 
 for it will rest more easily on the shoulders of an ob- 
 scure gentleman like myself than on those of the 
 king's brother or ally. M. de Guise once before did 
 me the honor of crossing swords with me; dare I 
 hope he will repeat it? " 
 
 " Monsieur," replied Guise, " do you realize the 
 enormity of the insult you offer us in thus playing 
 with us? You have a motive for preventing this duel ; 
 tell us what it is." 
 
 " It is simply this, Messieurs : you are fighting be- 
 cause one of you is supposed to be in the greater favor 
 with a certain lady, and because one of you believes 
 the other guilty of dishonorable behavior toward an- 
 other lady. It is a matter of honor ; there has been 
 an impulsive insult offered, and redress must be had, 
 even though that redress mean a mighty change in 
 the history of France, which is to say, in the history 
 of the world. The position that each of you occupies,
 
 2/8 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 moreover, will cause this duel to be known wherever 
 civilization exists. The cause of the duel will also be 
 learned. The reputations of two women will be 
 sacrificed in the general ruin this affair will cause. 
 This is an affair of honor. Redress must be had, even 
 at the price of women's reputations, empires' safety, 
 and law's sanctity. However, I beg you to under- 
 stand, this redress will be gained to-night over the 
 dead body of the Comte de Chabanes." 
 
 Both Anjou and Guise recoiled under the sting of 
 Chabanes' sarcastic rebuke. They could not but 
 admit that he was in the right, that they had ruth- 
 lessly forgotten, both of them, the reputation of the 
 woman they claimed to love above all things, to say 
 nothing of that of the sister of their king. However, 
 neither of them had ever been greatly given to the 
 preservation of trifles like women's reputations. 
 
 " Monsieur," said Guise, whose anger had cooled, 
 to Anjou, after a moment's reflection, " M. de 
 Chabanes doubtless speaks the truth. There is too 
 much at stake besides our own desire for satisfaction. 
 We cannot fight." 
 
 He announced this conclusion proudly, not desiring 
 to appear less chivalrous than Chabanes, and in the 
 full confidence that his rival dared not accuse him of 
 cowardice. 
 
 " As you will," replied Anjou, morosely, petulantly 
 throwing his cloak over his shoulders and leaving the 
 house. 
 
 "Monsieur," continued Guise, with simulated 
 respect, to Chabanes, "allow me the honor of con- 
 gratulating you as a man of true gallantry."
 
 A DUEL AND AN INTERRUPTION 2/9 
 
 The count grasped Guise's proffered hand. " Per- 
 mit me," he said, with a simple dignity that concealed 
 his lack of faith in the duke's sincerity, " to felicitate 
 you on your prompt recognition of the demands of 
 the situation." 
 
 Later that night Anjou, who was in a frightful 
 humor, awakened his favorite, Guast. 
 
 " It is not Chabanes that she loves," he said, signi- 
 ficantly ; " it is Guise. Chabanes loves her." 
 
 " And in that case ? " asked the favorite. 
 
 " I still believe Chabanes must be removed." 
 
 " Then so do I," muttered Guast, returning to his 
 slumbers. 
 
 As for Guise, when he returned home, he ordered 
 his valet to bring him a kitten, which small animal he 
 scratched lightly with the point of Anjou's dagger, 
 which he had purposely taken instead of his own ; a 
 few minutes later he watched the diminutive creature 
 writhe in the agony of a spasmodic death. 
 
 " As I thought," he muttered, with an evil smile ; 
 " poisoned. Let us hope Monsieur will not similarly 
 test my own weapon ! " 
 
 In the convent of the sisters of Sainte Catherine, 
 Victoire and Antoinette waited an interminable hour, 
 momentarily expecting to hear criers without shout- 
 ing the news of the duel. At last Victoire, in desper- 
 ation, ordered the maid to go out in the street and 
 try to learn something of what had occurred. Antoi- 
 nette had scarcely run a block when she met the 
 Comte de Chabanes emerging from a deserted house. 
 
 "What news, Monsieur?" she cried, in breathless 
 eagerness.
 
 280 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 " All is well," replied the count, absently. He was 
 wondering what grounds Anjou could have for his 
 assertion that Guise was favored by the princess. 
 " Tell your mistress that there will be no duel." 
 
 Antoinette darted back to the convent, while 
 Chabanes mounted the street toward the Louvre. 
 
 As the maid entered the room in which she had 
 left her mistress, Victoire lay across the bed with her 
 eyes closed. Antoinette walked on tiptoe, believing 
 her mistress asleep and realizing the great value of 
 rest to the tired mind and body. Victoire, however, 
 was wide-awake. Springing to her feet, she cried 
 eagerly, "What has happened, Anne?" 
 
 " I met M. de Chabanes himself. He said ' All is 
 well ; tell your mistress there will be no duel/ " replied 
 the maid, as soon as she could recover her breath. 
 
 " Thank God ! " cried Victoire, falling back on the 
 bed exhausted. 
 
 " Thank God ! " repeated Antoinette, crossing 
 herself. 
 
 " And Raoul ! " added the princess, mentally. " Ah, 
 Raoul, how can I ever thank you enough ! "
 
 XXV 
 
 A FALSEHOOD AND ANOTHER 
 
 ON the following evening Victoire supped with her 
 mother-in-law, the duchess, at the H6tel de 
 Guise. The Due de Guise followed the princess 
 thither, and, an opportunity offering, he attempted to 
 speak with her alone. 
 
 " Madame," he began, in his usual tone of simulated 
 respect, " it pains me deeply to be compelled to 
 inform you of what Monsieur and I were speaking 
 at the ballet last night." 
 
 Victoire interrupted him. "M. de Guise," she said, 
 with great indignation, " I marvel at your audacity in 
 addressing me. I had thought you the soul of honor, 
 and I find you one of the most despicable men in the 
 world. You will favor me by never addressing me 
 again, either in public or in private." 
 
 Guise, surprised by these words, that indicated some 
 new distrust for which he was at a loss to account, 
 begged an explanation. 
 
 " I mean what I say," continued Victoire, in the 
 same tone. " I can listen to nothing from you." 
 
 " Very well, Madame," returned the duke, impul- 
 sively, "you shall be satisfied. I am going to do 
 that which the king himself could not have required 
 of me. It will cost me my fortune, but that is nothing 
 when your gratification is in question."
 
 282 A PARFIT GEN TIL KNIGHT 
 
 He hastily left the h6tel, believing that Victoire 
 had heard fresh rumors concerning himself and Mar- 
 guerite. He had not the faintest idea of carrying into 
 effect the threat he had just made, but Fate was 
 against him, as he soon learned, his statement 
 proved prophetic. 
 
 He proceeded at once to the Louvre, where the 
 king was giving another ball, and, on entering the 
 hall, came face to face with his sovereign, who was 
 conversing with several gentlemen. Charles IX. 
 glanced contemptuously at the duke. 
 
 " Well, Monseigneur," he said, imperiously, " where 
 are you going?" 
 
 " Sire," replied Guise, humbly, " I am here to offer 
 my services to your gracious Majesty." 
 
 " Then you may as well depart," rejoined the king. 
 " I have no need of your services." 
 
 Guise bowed profoundly, but prudently made no 
 reply. He withdrew from the hall and had scarcely 
 gone twenty paces when a page slipped a bit of 
 paper into his hand and darted past. Guise carried 
 the paper to the nearest candelabrum. It was a note 
 in the handwriting of Marguerite de Valois. 
 
 " M. de Guise, if he wishes to preserve his life, must im- 
 mediately fly from court. He must not go out by the 
 usual corridor, as Monsieur awaits him there to assassinate 
 him. The grand prior of France has been instructed to 
 kill M. de Guise on sight." 
 
 The duke at once turned and left the Louvre by 
 a door other than that by which he usually departed. 
 A half-hour later he was with his uncle, the Cardinal
 
 A FALSEHOOD AND ANOTHER 283 
 
 de Lorraine. He detailed to him what had just 
 occurred at the palace, and acquainted him with 
 a project to espouse at once the Princesse de Porcien. 
 The cardinal reluctantly agreed, seeing no other way 
 for his nephew to escape the royal wrath, as his 
 Majesty evidently saw that Guise still aspired to the 
 hand of Marguerite de Valois. Shortly after, Guise 
 sought his mother the Duchesse de Nemours, at her 
 h6tel. She at once sent for Catherine de Cleves, 
 Princesse de Porcien, sister of her who was engaged 
 to the young Prince de Conde, and widow of a noted 
 Huguenot, who, on his death-bed, had requested his 
 wife not to marry the Due de Guise. The duchess 
 explained her son's plight to the Princesse de Por- 
 cien, asking the latter to marry him at once and so 
 save his life. The princess agreed ; in less than six 
 hours' time the ceremony was performed, and the 
 bride and groom hastened to court, where they were 
 received with marked favor by all, including the king 
 and Anjou. 
 
 The morning after the duel in the Rue Saint-Denis, 
 Monsieur had sought an interview with his brother, 
 the king. 
 
 " Sire," he said, adopting the tone of extreme 
 humility with which of late he had been accustomed 
 to address Charles IX., " I have the honor of an- 
 nouncing to you that I have discovered the identity 
 of two traitors here at court of whom your Majesty 
 were well rid." 
 
 " And these traitors, are they not some persons 
 that have become objectionable to you, Henri," 
 asked the king, who was caressing a large greyhound
 
 284 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 that sat with its nose in its master's lap, " and whom 
 you take this means of removing? " 
 
 " Sire," replied Monsieur, as though greatly pained, 
 "you do me an injustice in attributing to me such 
 motives." 
 
 " Well, who are they ? " inquired the king, abruptly. 
 He took little stock in his brother's protestations of 
 devotion. 
 
 " One of them is none other than M. de Guise." 
 
 The king glanced searchingly at his brother. He 
 had no great liking for Guise and was quite ready to 
 distrust him. 
 
 " M. de Guise," continued Anjou, seeing that he 
 had aroused the king's interest, " is, as you are aware, 
 inordinately ambitious, and it is a well known fact 
 throughout the court that he aspires to the hand of 
 our sister Margot." 
 
 The king sprang to his feet and began pacing the 
 floor. " I have heard as much," he muttered. " M. 
 de Guise had best look to his life if his ambitions 
 carry him too far ! And what encouragement does 
 he receive from Marguerite ? " 
 
 " Much, I regret to inform you, Sire." 
 
 "And you would advise me in regard to M. de 
 Guise ? " 
 
 "That your Majesty take immediate precautions 
 to rid himself of one whose life daily becomes more 
 of a menace to the state. Believe me, Sire, you will 
 never persuade our sister to consent to this proposed 
 marriage with the King of Navarre while Guise in- 
 fluences her. She disgusted the ambassadors of the 
 King of Portugal by her open admiration of Guise,
 
 A FALSEHOOD AND ANOTHER 285 
 
 and she will so affect the Protestants, when they 
 request her marriage to their Bearnais." 
 
 " More than likely you are right, Henri," replied 
 the king, through his clenched teeth. At that 
 moment the bastard of Angoul6me, Henri, grand 
 prior of France, entered the cabinet. 
 
 " Henri," said the king, in a burst of anger address- 
 ing the new arrival, "do you see those weapons? " 
 He pointed to two hunting-knives that lay on a 
 table. " Well, I swear to you that one of them shall 
 pierce you, if to-morrow at the chase you do not 
 with the other kill the Due de Guise ! " 
 
 " Sire," said Anjou, eagerly, " if I may, I will sug- 
 gest an even surer plan." 
 
 " Out with it then, Monsieur," replied Charles IX., 
 abruptly. 
 
 "The Due de Guise will be at the ball to-night. 
 I will lie in waiting as he leaves the Louvre and stab 
 him." 
 
 " Pardieu, but you are devoted to the extermina- 
 tion of my foes ! " said the king, laughing grimly. 
 " Well, so be it ! " 
 
 " There is still another, Sire," continued Anjou, 
 elated with his success. 
 
 " And this other is ? " 
 
 " The Comte de Chabanes." 
 
 The king again glanced sharply at his brother. 
 He was evidently displeased by this second accusa- 
 tion. " And what, pray, is the offence of M. de 
 Chabanes?" he asked, petulantly. 
 
 " Sire, I know not if he be contemplating any 
 treachery at present, but I do know that he plotted
 
 286 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 against your Majesty's life on the night he was 
 wounded in the Rue des Barres, whither your Majesty 
 had taken him as one of your escort." 
 
 " It is an ill plot that turns on its maker," replied 
 the king, incredulously. 
 
 " Yet chance will sometimes cause a plot to turn, 
 Sire. M. de Chabanes on that occasion, you will 
 remember, betrayed great reluctance to accept the 
 honor of accompanying your Majesty to the Rue 
 des Barres." 
 
 " It is true," admitted Charles IX., " he acquiesced 
 only after protesting that he had many other duties." 
 
 " Very well, Sire, his reluctance was the result of 
 the fact that he had already hired a body of cut- 
 throats to fall on your Majesty's gentlemen, not 
 thinking that he, himself, might be one of those 
 gentlemen." 
 
 " But what motive had he to plot against our life? " 
 demanded the king, still unsatisfied. 
 
 " Your Majesty knows that he was formerly sus- 
 pected of Huguenot tendencies, and that, even now, 
 he is woefully irregular about going to Mass. Well, 
 I- have learned that he was at that time in league 
 with the Protestants and that he was expecting to 
 turn the event of your Majesty's assassination to 
 account for the heretics." 
 
 " Nevertheless," persisted the king, who could not 
 but consider Chabanes incapable of such treachery, 
 " we are now at peace with the Huguenots and they 
 are again our children. M. de Chabanes is no longer 
 dangerous. Besides, he has reaped his own punish- 
 ment in the illness he suffered,"
 
 A FALSEHOOD AND ANOTHER 287 
 
 " But, Sire, I protest to you that I can never feel 
 secure in regard to your Majesty's welfare while 
 such a man is at liberty." 
 
 " Nom de Dieu ! " exclaimed the king, with grow- 
 ing anger. "What proof have you against the 
 man?" 
 
 " The evidence of the cut-throat that was so severely 
 wounded that night in the Rue des Barres, and whom 
 the Comte de Chabanes hired to attack your Majesty's 
 gentlemen." 
 
 " Very well, bring me this man and I will consider 
 the matter further," replied the king, with a gesture 
 of dismissal, and Anjou retired, well satisfied with 
 his success. 
 
 Angoulme, who had left the king's cabinet when 
 his brothers had ceased speaking of Guise, met Mar- 
 guerite in the corridor. 
 
 " And of what have you been conversing with the 
 king?" she demanded of him. 
 
 " Of that which concerns you deeply," replied the 
 grand prior of France. 
 
 "And are you not going to share it with me, 
 then?" asked Madame, alarmed at his words. 
 
 " I do not know but that I may," responded Henri, 
 pensively. " But first you must give me your solemn 
 promise never to reveal the name of your informer. 
 It might be as much as my life is worth, were the 
 king to know the hand I had in his affair." 
 
 " I promise," replied Madame, sincerely. 
 
 Thereupon Angoulme related that part of the 
 conversation between the king and Monsieur that he 
 had just overheard.
 
 288 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 So it was that the Due de Guise was warned by 
 Marguerite de Valois of the danger that menaced 
 him at court. Madame's page sought the duke 
 unavailingly until he at last found the latter in a corri- 
 dor of the Louvre, in time to save him from the knife 
 of Anjou. 
 
 One night not long after the occurrence of the 
 events just related, a man, enveloped in a long black 
 mantle, entered a small, unpretentious house that 
 fronted on the Rue Saint Denis. This house was 
 adjacent to the convent of the sisters of Sainte 
 Catherine, and it was used by them as a sort of 
 hospital for the refuge of the homeless that were ill 
 or wounded. The door was opened to him by a tall, 
 queenly woman, whose evident worldly experience 
 had left its traces on her majestic countenance, side 
 by side with those of an ardent and devoted life of 
 asceticism. As the man entered, another woman, 
 cloaked in black, who was leaving the place, hurriedly 
 passed him and, entering a chair that awaited her 
 ,in the street, was borne away. 
 
 " The Due d'Anjou ! " thought the woman. " What 
 can he be doing here? " 
 
 " Mme. de Montpensier ! " muttered the man, in 
 his beard. " What does she desire here? " 
 
 Each had recognized the other, despite their cloaks, 
 hats, and masks. 
 
 " Good evening, Mother Frangoise," said the man, 
 to the sister who had opened the door. " How goes 
 our sick man?" 
 
 " He gives much promise of recovery, Monseig- 
 neur," replied the woman. " He was able to sit up
 
 A FALSEHOOD AND ANOTHER 289 
 
 awhile to-day. I wish I might have as much assur- 
 ance for his soul as for his body." 
 
 "That will come, Mother," replied Anjou, with a 
 smile. " Surely the care you have given him here 
 and the influences with which he has been sur- 
 rounded will not be without their effect. Does he not 
 confess? " 
 
 " Ah, yes ; he is in appearance a devout Catholic, 
 ' but his religion is not true. He is a hypocrite." 
 
 " He will always be a cripple, will he not?" 
 
 " Yes ; he will never walk without a crutch." 
 
 " He had some severe scratches that night in the 
 Rue des Barres, when he and his friends had the 
 audacity to attack the gentlemen of the king. Let 
 us hope he will have learned a lesson that he will not 
 soon forget." 
 
 "You take an extraordinary interest in this man, 
 Monseigneur." 
 
 " That was exactly what I was remarking to myself 
 a moment ago, Mother. I suppose I am gratifying 
 an absurd impulse in coming here from the Louvre to 
 ascertain the condition of a wounded cut-throat that 
 once attacked the gentlemen of the king, my brother. 
 We gain daily instances of our inability to account 
 for tastes, do we not, Mother?" 
 
 " Indeed it seems so ! " responded Mother Fran- 
 goise, in no reassured tone. " Will you see your pro- 
 tege this evening, Monseigneur?" 
 
 " If you please, Mother Frangoise," replied Anjou, 
 following her into a small chamber that opened on a 
 tiny garden. On a bed in a corner of the room lay 
 
 a man whose pale face and sharp features betrayed 
 
 19
 
 2QO A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 the fact that he had been long and seriously ill. A 
 fresh scar across one cheek indicated that his illness 
 was the result of wounds. The duke approached 
 him noiselessly, but the man had heard the door 
 opened and had turned his head. There was a look 
 of anxiety in his eyes as he recognized his visitor. 
 He returned Anjou's friendly salute in a feeble tone. 
 
 " Mother Franchise tells me that you are now on 
 the road to recovery," said the duke, cheerily. " Ac- 
 cept my congratulations." 
 
 The man fumbled nervously with his covering. 
 He was evidently of the class that never outgrows its 
 embarrassment in the presence of those of superior 
 position. 
 
 " It is all on account of your kindness and that of 
 the sisters here, Monseigneur," he stammered. " I 
 fear I shall never be able to repay you." 
 
 " Tut ! tut ! " replied Anjou ; " your gratitude and 
 the enjoyment I have drawn from watching your 
 recovery more than suffice." 
 
 " Is there no way, Monseigneur," continued the 
 man, nervously, "that I can prove to you my 
 gratitude ? " 
 
 In reality his recovery had always been retarded 
 by the fear of the punishment that would doubtless 
 follow it. 
 
 Mother Franchise had withdrawn from the room, 
 and Anjou bent over the man, looking him squarely 
 in the eye. "Do you really desire to do something 
 forme?" Monsieur asked. 
 
 " My life and liberty are in your hands, Mon- 
 seigneur."
 
 A FALSEHOOD AND ANOTHER 291 
 
 " Then I will tell you of a service you can render 
 me. Listen attentively : the king, as you know, has 
 never discovered who instigated the attack on his 
 gentlemen that night in the Rue des Barres. As I 
 have explained to you before, your men made a mis- 
 take in falling on the two you first saw. This was 
 not your fault, for I had not foreseen the visit of his 
 Majesty and his gentlemen to that street on that 
 night. I have discovered, however, the identity of 
 one that intended the assassination of the king himself. 
 This man I desire to be rid of at once. His very 
 life is a menace to both the king and myself. You 
 can be of assistance to me in my plan to remove him." 
 
 "Ami to kill him?" 
 
 " No. You must merely accompany me to the 
 king, and relate to his Majesty a story which I will 
 now detail to you. You will tell his Majesty that, on 
 the day before the incident in the Rue des Barres, a 
 gentleman came to you and told you to gather a 
 dozen men and meet him the next night in the Rue 
 de la Mortellerie. This gentleman, you will say, told 
 you that, at eight o'clock that night, a man would 
 enter a house in the Rue des Barres after posting two 
 or three gentlemen in the street without. These you 
 were to fall on and kill, and you were then to wait 
 until the other emerged from the house and assassi- 
 nate him. During the conflict that occurred that night, 
 you will say, one of the gentlemen in the street ex- 
 claimed, ' Knave, I am the man that hired you ! ' 
 whereupon, recognizing his voice as that of your em- 
 ployer, you immediately dropped your point, receiv- 
 ing the thrust that brought you here. At the same
 
 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 time one of your men plunged his sword into the 
 breast of the gentleman that had spoken to you. Do 
 you understand ? " 
 
 " I know the story," replied the man, briefly repeat- 
 ing what Anjou had just told him ; " but why is this 
 gentleman supposed to have plotted against his 
 Majesty's life?" 
 
 " Because he is a Huguenot and in league with the 
 King of Navarre, who had intended to take advantage 
 of the king's death to place himself on the throne in 
 my stead." 
 
 " And this assassin's name is ? " 
 
 " The Comte de Chabanes." 
 
 The man did not reply for some moments. " You 
 assure me, Monseigneur," he said, finally, " that I shall 
 not be examined by the king?" 
 
 " I have arranged everything. The king is under 
 the impression that you have been examined by my- 
 self, and he will expect the story that I have just de- 
 tailed to you." 
 
 " And after that I shall be in no danger of arrest? " 
 
 " You have my word for it," replied Anjou, who 
 knew that an oubliette was destined to preclude such 
 a possibility. " You understand that I am merely 
 taking a short course to rid my brother of a dangerous 
 enemy. This Comte de Chabanes was selected to 
 accompany the king to the Rue des Barres only the 
 night before the conflict in that street. The count, 
 I have learned, was not over-anxious to go, pleading 
 other duties and only acquiescing when the king in- 
 sisted. This fact will agree with your statement that 
 the count had hired you to attack the gentlemen with
 
 A FALSEHOOD AND ANOTHER 293 
 
 the king, not knowing that he would be one of those 
 gentlemen. It will also explain why your antagonist 
 spoke to you before you received your wound. As 
 the count has before been suspected of Huguenot 
 sympathies, his conviction in the eyes of the king will 
 be certain on the strength of such evidence, and, once 
 he is in the Bastille, a menace to the crown of France 
 will have been removed. If you will implicitly follow 
 my instructions and play your part well, I will not 
 only insure your immunity from arrest, but give you 
 a hundred rose nobles." 
 
 Anjou's ratiocination seemed intended more for his 
 own satisfaction than for the information of the cut- 
 throat. 
 
 " I will do my best, Monseigneur," replied the latter, 
 reassured by the added temptation of the promised 
 money. 
 
 " Very well, then. In a few days I will send for 
 you, you will be taken to the Louvre, and the king 
 will hear your story. Then you will receive the 
 money and depart a free man." 
 
 The duke arose as he finished speaking, Mother 
 Franchise re-entering the room. 
 
 " I am going now, Mother," he said, cheerily. 
 " Your patient has made most wonderful progress." 
 
 In the hall he paused an instant before leaving. 
 " Does Mme. de Montpensier come here often, 
 Mother? " he asked, abruptly. 
 
 Mother Frangoise could not conceal her astonish- 
 ment at the question. " How do you know she 
 comes here at all, Monseigneur?" she asked. 
 
 " I recognized her figure as we passed in the door- 
 way."
 
 294 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 " She comes here occasionally to talk with the 
 sisters and visit our sick. She is a good woman, 
 Monseigneur, and a good Catholic." 
 
 Anjou crossed himself devoutly. " I know that, 
 Mother " he said as he opened the door.
 
 XXVI 
 
 AN EXPLANATION AND AN ARREST 
 
 T 7ICTOIRE experienced a sense of great gratifi- 
 cation when she heard the news of Guise's 
 sudden and hurried marriage to the Princesse de 
 Porcien. Naturally, being ignorant of the true cause, 
 she construed it as the fulfilment of the duke's 
 threat to do that which the king himself had been 
 unable to bring about, as a proof of the former's 
 sincerity in his declaration of the attitude of him- 
 self and Marguerite de Valois. She could not look 
 on the new duchess as a rival in any sense of the 
 word, for all France knew that the latter had assidu- 
 ously pursued the young duke, in the hope of ally- 
 ing the house of Cleves with that of Guise. 
 
 Accordingly, when she next saw him at court, 
 Victoire greeted him cordially. " Fie, cousin ! " she 
 said, laughingly, the first time they conversed alone, 
 "you have done a rash, impulsive thing that you 
 will always regret. You .have thrown away a for- 
 tune the like of which cannot be found in all the 
 world, and all for the friendship of a simple lady 
 of the court." 
 
 She laid especial emphasis on the word " friend- 
 ship," for she had determined henceforth to permit 
 Guise to regard her in that light only, and she 
 desired him to understand her determination.
 
 296 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 Guise was not greatly pleased with the evidence 
 of it, though he tactfully replied, " Madame, I swear 
 that my action will ever be the pride of my life. 
 If I have secured that friendship of which you 
 speak, I have gained what is greater to me than 
 all the fortunes of the world combined." 
 
 " We shall see about that later," responded Vic- 
 toire, gayly. She was pleased by his words more 
 than she would admit even to herself. " You should 
 have married Madame," she continued, waving off 
 the duke's protestations ; " I should not have been 
 jealous, I assure you. Why, you remember, only 
 the other night at the ballet I told you to have 
 eyes only for the king's sister." 
 
 " You told me that, Madame ? Surely, you are 
 mistaken; I did not hear you say it." 
 
 " Nevertheless, I did say it when you were speak- 
 ing to me before your entree." 
 
 " What a curious mistake, Madame ! Heaven 
 knows that I listen to your voice with raptest atten- 
 tion whenever I am honored by its music. How 
 could I have failed to hear you say such a thing? " 
 
 " I know not, cousin. I only know that I called 
 you to me, just before the commencement of the 
 ballet, and spoke the words to you." 
 
 "And was I masked?" inquired Guise, who began 
 to penetrate the mystery. 
 
 "Yes, masked and ready to proceed with the 
 entree." 
 
 " In that case, Madame, the matter is clear enough. 
 It was the Due d'Anjou whom, owing to the similar- 
 ity of our costumes and the fact that both of us were
 
 AN EXPLANATION AND AN ARREST 297 
 
 masked, you mistook for myself. The mystery of 
 his remarks to me a little later is explained." 
 
 " And the words he said to me ! " exclaimed Vic- 
 toire, impulsively extending her hand to the duke, 
 who, kneeling, kissed it so ardently that she flushed 
 deeply, but not with anger. " Ah, M. de Guise, can 
 you ever forgive me for the injustice I have done 
 you? I thought you as deceitful as other men, and 
 that you had spoken of me to Monsieur. He came 
 to me after the ballet and reproached me with hav- 
 ing favored you to his prejudice, and I thought " 
 She broke off, suddenly realizing that she was going 
 farther than she had intended. 
 
 "And you thought ?" said Guise, eagerly. 
 
 " Well, never mind ; I misjudged you and blamed 
 you for what chance alone brought about. Monsieur 
 is very cordial to the bride and groom," she added, 
 by way of changing the subject. " One would 
 scarcely believe that but a few nights ago he en- 
 gaged you in deadly combat ! " 
 
 " And with a poisoned dagger," said Guise, bitterly, 
 adding, " This is, of course, in strictest confidence." 
 
 " Poisoned ? Surely, you are mistaken, Monsieur ! " 
 
 " No, Madame, for I tested it after the duel." 
 
 " Then he must have taken it in ignorance," said 
 Victoire, charitably. 
 
 Guise shrugged his shoulders but did not reply. 
 
 The king, with Anjou, Alengon, and several others 
 approached. " Mme. de Montpensier," said Charles 
 IX., " it seems that our brother Guise, deprived of 
 his wife by the appreciative gentlemen of our court," 
 the king indicated a group, of which the duchess
 
 298 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 was the central figure, in another part of the room, 
 " is already compelled to seek solace with our fairest 
 ladies." 
 
 Guise recognized the slur on his incomplete de- 
 votion to his bride, but received it with a smile. 
 " Sire," he said, gallantly, " I could ask no more 
 pleasant compulsion." 
 
 Victoire tried in vain to* hide her blushes and, half 
 angry with the duke for thus causing her confusion 
 before the king, she hailed the Comte de Chabanes 
 who was passing. 
 
 When Charles IX.'s eye fell on Chabanes, the 
 sovereign paled visibly and, not deigning to recog- 
 nize the respectful bow with which the count greeted 
 him, he turned on his heel and walked rapidly away. 
 Guise followed him with the others, after excusing 
 himself with Victoire, who evidently desired to speak 
 privately with Chabanes. 
 
 " Why, Raoul," she said to the latter, in a low, 
 frightened tone, " did you notice the coolness of the 
 king when you approached? He paid you not 
 the slightest attention and seemed displeased to 
 see you ! " 
 
 " I cannot explain it, Victoire," replied Chabanes, 
 whose mind was occupied more with the- attention 
 he had just seen her granting the Due de Guise 
 than with the king's evident and ominous disfavor ; 
 " unless Monsieur has been doing me ill offices with 
 his Majesty." 
 
 Victoire, who was greatly alarmed by the king's 
 attitude toward Chabanes, sought her husband with 
 the intention of at once laying the incident before
 
 AN EXPLANA TION AND AN ARREST 299 
 
 him and asking his opinion of the king's meaning. 
 Chabanes sadly left the Louvre and started for the 
 H6tel de Montpensier. He had not gone a hundred 
 yards when a horseman galloped up beside him and 
 dismounted. Chabanes at once recognized him as 
 La Chastro, Captain of the King's Guards. 
 
 " M. de Chabanes ! " cried La Chastro, " I would 
 have a word with you." 
 
 " I can guess your word, M. le Capitaine," replied 
 the count, with a melancholy smile. He had seen 
 others thus approached by the captain, and he knew 
 what the hailing always meant. He recalled the 
 king's recent behavior. 
 
 La Chastro drew a paper from his doublet and was 
 about to unfold it, but the count restrained him with 
 a gesture. 
 
 "That is unnecessary, Monsieur," he said, drawing 
 his sword and presenting it, hilt first, to the captain. 
 " I am ready to follow you." 
 
 " Then will you do me the honor of walking by 
 my side to the next corner, where a carriage awaits 
 us?" 
 
 Chabanes and La Chastro entered the carriage, 
 which they reached after a minute's walk, the latter 
 having given his horse in charge of a waiting lackey. 
 
 The curtains of the carriage windows were tightly 
 drawn and, when the door was closed, they found 
 themselves in total darkness. For some minutes 
 neither spoke. 
 
 " Are there no affairs that you wish to arrange, M. 
 le Comte ? " asked La Chastro, at length, in a tone of 
 wonder. He had taken many men to prison, but
 
 300 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 never before had he seen one that went without a 
 question or a request. 
 
 " I can think of none, Monsieur," replied the count, 
 calmly, " but I thank you for the question." 
 
 " I shall be honored to deliver any message with 
 which you may intrust me, Monsieur," continued the 
 captain, with growing admiration for the coolness of 
 his prisoner. 
 
 " I shall be under obligations to you M. le Capi- 
 taine, if you will inform M. le Prince de Montpensier 
 of my arrest." 
 
 " The prince shall know of it at once." 
 
 The coach had arrived before the Bastille, of whose 
 gray towers and grim walls Chabanes caught a 
 glimpse as the footman opened the coach door. 
 They were at the first court in front of the castle 
 keep. 
 
 "Who goes there? " cried the sentinel. 
 
 " The king's writ ! " replied La Chastro. 
 
 The carriage did not at once proceed, but remained 
 stationary during an interval sufficient for the shop- 
 keepers about the flanks of the chateau to close their 
 places of business. Chabanes saw several soldiers on 
 duty pull their hats over their eyes and face about 
 toward the wall. Then the closed carriage passed 
 the outpost and a bell sounded. 
 
 " Advance ! " cried a voice, as the rattle of chains 
 announced the lowering of the drawbridge, and the 
 coach rumbled forward across the stout, iron-clamped 
 boards. They drove along a covered way that led to 
 the dwelling of the governor of the Bastille, contiguous 
 to the armory, and stopped at the governor's door,
 
 AN EXPLANATION AND AN ARREST 30! 
 
 where La Chastro, followed by Chabanes, descended. 
 They were greeted at the door by the king's lieu- 
 tenant, who politely welcomed them and conducted 
 them into the presence of the governor. The latter 
 received them civilly and at once endorsed the lettre 
 de cachet, which La Chastro drew from his doublet 
 and read aloud : " Order to detain at my fortress of 
 the Bastille the Comte de Chabanes. Signed, Charles, 
 Rex." 
 
 La Chastro bowed his deferential adieux to both 
 the governor and Chabanes, re-entered the coach, 
 and drove away. 
 
 After several formal civilities the governor an- 
 nounced to Chabanes that, being a prisoner of state 
 and of high rank, he should have a chamber in the 
 Tower of Liberty, which was one of the eight wall- 
 united structures that composed the great chateau, 
 and to which he was at once conducted. 
 
 "Until I have received my instructions in your 
 regard, M. le Comte," said the governor, " I shall be 
 compelled to keep you in solitude. It will not be for 
 more than a day or two at most, and after that you 
 will have many privileges. Doubtless there will be 
 no objection to your being allowed the freedom of 
 the library, the court, the platform on the towers, and 
 the garden of the bastion. It is even possible that 
 you may communicate with your friends without the 
 chateau." 
 
 Chabanes learned soon enough, however, that this 
 latter privilege was to be denied him, though the 
 others were readily granted. " The king," the gov- 
 ernor said, a day later, "has given strict orders
 
 3O2 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 that M. de Chabanes shall neither send nor receive 
 letters." 
 
 Toward six o'clock in the evening, three days 
 after the count's incarceration, Victoire was ushered 
 into the presence of the governor of the Bastille. 
 
 " M. le Gouverneur," she said, with ill-concealed 
 impatience, " I desire to see M. le Comte de 
 Chabanes." 
 
 "Have you an order, Madame?" inquired the 
 governor, politely. 
 
 "Yes, here it is;" and she exhibited a scrap of 
 paper bearing the king's signature. 
 
 The governor glanced at it and, bidding her follow 
 him, at once led her out into a gloomy passage, at the 
 end of which was a narrow spiral staircase, by which 
 they ascended to the third story. Victoire found her- 
 self in a stone-paved corridor, on which opened a num- 
 ber of uniform doors. The governor unlocked one 
 of them and led her into a small octagonal chamber 
 with whitewashed ceiling and walls and a brick floor, 
 comfortably, though far from luxuriously, furnished. 
 
 A single high, barred window, that was approached 
 by three steps and that overlooked the inner court of 
 the Bastille, surrounded on all four sides by the gray, 
 moss-covered walls of the fortress, lighted the apart- 
 ment and revealed to the princess Chabanes, seated, 
 with his back to the door and reading a book. 
 
 " M. le Comte," said the governor, deferentially, 
 " Mme. la Princesse de Montpensier desires to speak 
 with you. Will you see her now?" 
 
 " At once," cried Chabanes, springing to his feet 
 and turning to greet his welcome visitor.
 
 AN EXPLANATION AND AN ARREST 303 
 
 Victoire advanced and seized both the count's 
 hands in hers as the governor discreetly withdrew. 
 
 " My poor Raoul ! " she cried, her eyes filling with 
 tears, " how you must have suffered ! " 
 
 " I ! " said Chabanes, with a melancholy smile ; " I 
 am accustomed to suffering ! " 
 
 " But not to this kind ! " exclaimed Victoire, seeing 
 in his words only a reference to his recent illness. 
 " Did you think we had deserted you at such an 
 hour?" 
 
 " No. I knew that were impossible." 
 
 " Captain La Chastro came directly to Charles after 
 leaving you here. Both Charles and myself were 
 thunderstruck at the news of your imprisonment. He 
 at once sought an audience with the king. I fear he 
 did your cause more harm than good, though," she 
 added, mournfully. 
 
 "And what did the king tell Charles?" asked 
 Chabanes. 
 
 " The king refused to state the grounds for your 
 imprisonment. It was a matter concerning the wel- 
 fare of the state, he said, and it could not at present 
 be explained. Charles begged for your release, 
 pleading your services to the king, especially that of 
 the night of the attempted assassination. To every- 
 thing the king replied with shrugs and sneers. At 
 last Charles so far forgot himself as to denounce as 
 tyrannical your imprisonment here. The king flew 
 into a rage and bade him leave the room ; so he was 
 compelled to retire in disgrace and dismay." 
 
 "And how did you obtain admission here?" 
 
 " I went to the king and, on my knees, implored
 
 304 A PARFIT GEN TIL KNIGHT 
 
 him to give me, at least, an order for myself and my 
 husband to be admitted to you. At first he refused 
 with such firmness that I almost lost hope, but at last, 
 no doubt through sheer weariness at my persistence, 
 he wrote the order for myself, entirely ignoring in it 
 the prince." 
 
 " I am very grateful to him for the favor," said 
 Chabanes, earnestly. 
 
 " Grateful ! " cried Victoire, indignantly; " I should 
 think you would hate him, even though he is the 
 king. I have secured a promise of the aid of M. de 
 Guise " 
 
 Chabanes sighed despairingly and she hesitated, not 
 understanding him. 
 
 " He will do everything in his power to secure your 
 release. He is grateful to you for your part in the 
 duel between himself and Monsieur." 
 
 " M. de Guise owes me nothing," said Chabanes, 
 coldly. 
 
 " Ah, but he is my friend, as you know, Raoul, and 
 he will justify my confidence in him by rendering 
 himself of assistance to you, I am sure. The king is 
 so engrossed with ' his new children/ as he calls the 
 Huguenots since there is no more war, that it is dif- 
 ficult to approach him. The Due de Montpensier is 
 unable to influence his Majesty because, the other 
 day, the duke protested against the liberties that have 
 of late been granted the heretics. The king regards 
 him with evident disfavor. Our misfortunes are many 
 at this serious hour." 
 
 " But I shall not lose hope, Victoire, when I know 
 that you are working for my interests."
 
 AN EXPLANA TION AND AN ARREST 305 
 
 " And of that you may always feel sure." 
 
 " Is there no news of importance at court? " 
 
 " There is none except in relation to the coming 
 marriage of the king to Elizabeth of Austria, which is 
 to take place, as you know, at Mezieres." 
 
 " And which will, doubtless, so engross his 
 Majesty's attention as to entirely eliminate from his 
 memory the fact that, although the king's fortress of 
 the Bastille is a most hospitable place, the Comte de 
 Chabanes has no great liking for a prolonged residence 
 in it." 
 
 " Tell me, Raoul, whom you consider the cause of 
 your arrest." 
 
 " It is Monsieur, doubtless," replied Chabanes, 
 lowering his voice. " He regrets that I interrupted 
 his duel with M. de Guise, I suppose." 
 
 Victoire could not restrain a sigh. " Then we have 
 a powerful antagonist with whom to deal," she said, 
 sorrowfully. "What privileges do they allow you 
 here?" 
 
 " Two hours a day for exercise in the court and on 
 the platform and for games and conversation with the 
 other prisoners, the acquaintance of several of whom 
 I have already formed, occasional walks in the garden 
 of the bastion, the use of the library, and no com- 
 munication with the outside world. At least I cannot 
 complain of the king's hospitality; it is only too 
 pressing." 
 
 Victoire and the count conversed for some time, 
 the former, on leaving, expressing her determination 
 to work night and day for his freedom. She also 
 promised to return at the first opportunity. After
 
 306 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 she had been gone a half-hour the governor again 
 visited the count's chamber. 
 
 " M. de Chabanes," he said, deferentially, after 
 inquiring if anything was lacking to the count's com- 
 fort, " the king has placed an ample pension at your 
 disposal, and you are at liberty to purchase such 
 articles of furniture and apparel as you may desire. 
 I should be pleased to have your company at dinner 
 this evening." 
 
 The following day Chabanes' furniture received a 
 considerable addition, his own tables and chairs 
 having been sent him from the H6tel de Montpensier.
 
 XXVII 
 
 A RESTRAINT AND A DELIVERANCE 
 
 TTARDLY a day passed without some little favor 
 " being granted Chabanes, who saw behind 
 each additional comfort and privilege the activity in 
 his behalf of the prince and Victoire. The crowning 
 indulgence was the arrival of Hercules, whom Mont- 
 pensier had sent from Champigny to the Bastille. 
 The greeting between the brute and his master was 
 touching in the extreme, and the count, whose isola- 
 tion was a more terrible punishment than any one 
 dreamed, drew much solace from the companionship 
 of the faithful dog. 
 
 The king's lieutenant, who was as courteous to 
 the count as was the governor, informed Chabanes 
 that he might have the services of his valet, Fran- 
 c.ois, who had announced his readiness to share his 
 master's imprisonment. Tears came to the count's 
 eyes as he instructed the lieutenant to refuse this 
 generous offer. 
 
 " Tell him he has my gratitude, but that I cannot 
 permit him to sacrifice his liberty thus," he said, 
 simply. 
 
 A month passed without either a visit or a direct 
 message from the prince or Victoire. Chabanes at 
 length learned from the kfng's lieutenant that Mont- 
 pensier, in his eagerness to secure : his liberation,
 
 308 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 had only succeeded in further estranging himself and 
 the king, who had emphasized his order that no letters 
 should be given to the prisoner, and had unequivocally 
 refused the prince permission to visit the Bastille. 
 
 Guise, pressed by Victoire, pretended to have un- 
 availingly solicited the king in the count's behalf; in 
 reality he was more than glad to have Chabanes out 
 of the path to Victoire's heart. 
 
 The princess lost no opportunity of addressing the 
 king, who, after firmly but politely refusing to grant 
 her requests, at length became discourteous in his 
 replies to her solicitations. As a result, the Due de 
 Montpensier warned his son and Victoire that they 
 must immediately cease harassing his Majesty in 
 Chabanes' regard, unless they desired to be over- 
 taken by a fate similar to the count's. They decided, 
 therefore, painful as it was, to postpone their efforts 
 to influence the king until they should have regained 
 some measure of the royal favor. At last, when two 
 months had slipped by, Victoire, chafing under her 
 burden of despairing loneliness, resolved to approach 
 the Due d'Anjou, in the hope of his procuring the 
 count's pardon. 
 
 The count, on his part, passed the days in torment 
 that was next to unendurable. He read determin- 
 edly and took advantage of every opportunity to 
 study his fellow-prisoners, with whom he became 
 immediately popular, and thus to divert his tortured 
 mind. At night, when he was in his room and the 
 key had been turned on the other side of the lock, 
 he would unburden himself to the dog, which passed 
 the time faithfully at its master's side.
 
 A RESTRAINT AND A DELIVERANCE 309 
 
 " She is at Villars-Cotterets to-night, Hercules," 
 he would say. The governor kept him informed of 
 the general news at court. " She is there in the 
 midst of the court with no one to guard her from 
 the innumerable snares laid for her by such men as 
 Guise and Monsieur. Only the prince is to care for 
 her, and his jealousy is in itself sufficient to drive her 
 to the verge of rashness. Ah, it is hard, hard, hard, 
 to be powerless when she is in danger! Heaven 
 knows it was difficult enough before, when I could 
 be at her side, but to be here, a prisoner, unable to 
 render her the slightest service it is maddening ! 
 She and Charles are suffering on my account. Ah, 
 you need not look cynical; I can never doubt the 
 sincerity of their friendship. If only I could escape ! 
 But, even then, I should be as helpless as I am now ; 
 I might not approach her." 
 
 Then he would walk the narrow floor, hours at a 
 time, consumed by the most terrible anguish, while 
 the dog, half in fear, eyed him sympathetically from 
 the corner in which he lay. 
 
 One morning in April, the guard announced to 
 Chabanes that he was to have a visitor, the first since 
 the previous October. The count's despondent heart 
 leaped with hope at this information ; beyond a doubt 
 it was Victoire or the prince that had come at last. 
 Hercules caught the spirit of his master's cheerful- 
 ness and barked joyfully as a turnkey led him out 
 to the court for his morning exercise. The visitor, 
 however, was the Due d'Anjou. 
 
 He sauntered nonchalantly into the room, spoke 
 coldly to Chabanes, and seated himself opposite the
 
 310 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 latter. Monsieur was unable, however, to restrain 
 an expression of surprise at the sight of the count's 
 drawn and haggard features and rapidly whitening 
 hair. 
 
 " Your stay here does not seem to have agreed 
 with you, M. le Comte," said Anjou, in a tone of 
 indifference. 
 
 " I confess that it has not been the most enjoyable 
 experience of my life," Chabanes replied, coldly. 
 
 There was a momentary silence during which 
 Monsieur seemed to be meditating on the proper 
 way to express that for which he had come. 
 
 Chabanes came to his aid. "To what may I 
 ascribe the honor of this visit, Monseigneur?" he 
 asked, not without a trace of bitterness in his voice. 
 
 " Really, I scarcely know how to answer you, 
 M. le Comte," replied Anjou. " I was struck with a 
 sudden fancy to visit the Bastille, not having been 
 here for some time, and, on inquiring of the governor 
 in regard to his guests, I learned of your presence 
 here. It is some weeks since I saw you last, you 
 know, and I decided to accept the opportunity of 
 renewing our acquaintance." 
 
 " The honor is more than my due," said Chabanes, 
 ironically. 
 
 " I fancied that you might lack accurate informa~ 
 tion in regard to the latest happenings at court," 
 continued Monsieur, not noticing the count's remark. 
 
 "The governor kindly keeps me informed." 
 
 "The court is now at Blois, M. le Comte. To- 
 morrow the ambassadors of her gracious Majesty, 
 Elizabeth of England, are to be received."
 
 A RESTRAINT AND A DELIVERANCE 3 1 1 
 
 "They are to negotiate for a marriage between 
 yourself and her Majesty." 
 
 " Exactly. I see that you are excellently informed. 
 A fortnight ago occurred a notable wedding." 
 
 " That of the Amiral de Coligny and Jacqueline 
 de Montbel," said Chabanes, in a tone that clearly 
 indicated that he was wearying of the conversation. 
 
 " Which was, doubtless, of greater interest to you, 
 a Huguenot, than is the news concerning my humble 
 self." 
 
 " I am not a Huguenot, Monseigneur." 
 
 " There, there, I did not expect you to confess. It 
 is said that you are even more than a heretic. Why 
 are you enjoying his Majesty's hospitality these 
 days?" 
 
 " I could ask you the same question, Monsei- 
 gneur," returned the count, who, half against his 
 will, began to hope that Anjou would relieve him 
 on that point. 
 
 " Unfortunately, I am unable to answer it. To tell 
 the truth I was unaware of your presence here, as I 
 said, and, even had I known of it, my coming here 
 was the result of a momentary impulse. I had no 
 opportunity to make inquiries." 
 
 Chabanes relapsed into melancholy gloom. He 
 could have sworn that Monsieur lied, and he felt that 
 there was some mysterious motive of evil import 
 behind this remarkable visit. The motive was not 
 long in disclosing itself. 
 
 " Quite the most sensational affair at Blois just 
 now is that of M. de Guise and an old friend of yours, 
 the Princesse de Montpensier."
 
 312 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 Monsieur paused with the evident intention of 
 noting well the effect of his words. The count first 
 flushed hotly and then became lividly pale. Anjou 
 continued, with a smile of satisfaction : 
 
 "They are inseparable; M. de Guise has quite 
 deserted his wife, who has already taken on two 
 lovers of whom all the court knows, to say nothing 
 of the less prominent ones. M. de Montpensier, it is 
 said, makes no objection to the unconcealed relations 
 of the duke and the fair princess. I believe she has 
 never been more radiant than she is in her new-found 
 happiness ; and as for M. de Guise, he is exalted, in 
 his own estimation, far above the king." 
 
 Chabanes was putting forth his entire strength in 
 an endeavor to control his impulse to strangle the 
 impudent fop, who, although the first prince in 
 France, resorted to such dishonorable lies merely for 
 the satisfaction of adding to the sufferings of a tor- 
 tured man. The flimsiness of the fabrication about 
 Guise and Victoire was too apparent to Chabanes 
 to permit him for a moment to doubt Anjou's 
 mendacity. 
 
 " M. le Due d'Anjou," said Chabanes, between his 
 clenched teeth, " you lie." 
 
 Monsieur laughed softly. " I, of course, expected 
 you to say so ; you are safe in offering the insult, for 
 you know I cannot avenge it as could one of your 
 station. Nevertheless-, the insult does not detract 
 from the truth of what I have just related to you. 
 Your interest in the affair is even more than I had 
 expected." 
 
 Chabanes, who had apparently, in great measure,
 
 A RESTRAINT AND A DELIVERANCE 313 
 
 regained his self-control, arose and, taking a glove 
 from the table at his elbow, struck the astounded 
 duke full across the face with it. 
 
 The color came and went furiously in the latter's 
 face ; with an involuntary gesture his hand sought his 
 sword, which was half-drawn, and, on second thought, 
 replaced in its scabbard. Monsieur, who had sprung 
 angrily to his feet at the blow, smilingly reseated 
 himself. 
 
 " I see," he said, as though addressing himself; 
 " his incarceration has affected his mind." 
 
 " You accept the insult, do you, Monsieur?" asked 
 Chabanes, contemptuously. 
 
 Monsieur merely laughed again ; there was a red 
 mark across his cheek where the glove had struck. 
 In desperation Chabanes returned to his chair and 
 reseated himself. 
 
 "It is to your credit, M. le Comte," said Anjou, 
 with a sneer, " that you refuse to believe your mis- 
 tress unfaithful." 
 
 Chabanes' look of impotent despair became only 
 the more apparent. It seemed that he must strangle 
 the king's brother, that there was no alternative. 
 
 " Still you are wrong," continued Monsieur, slowly ; 
 " not only is M. de Guise the present favorite, but 
 I myself could relate an interesting story of the 
 princess. The strange and romantic part about it, 
 M. le Comte," Anjou drawled, exasperatingly, " is 
 that it is to yourself that I am in debt for it, rather 
 than to any personal attraction of my own. Mme. la 
 Princesse solicited from me your pardon ; I explained 
 to her that the favor would be a great one, suggesting
 
 314 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 that I should demand a great favor in return. You 
 see, it is clear as day." 
 
 Monsieur toyed with his lace cuff and regarded the 
 count with a smile of fiendish enjoyment. The latter 
 cast on his tormentor a look of supreme contempt ; 
 Chabanes was now completely master of himself. 
 
 "Well, can you make no comment, Monsieur?" 
 asked Anjou, shrugging his shoulders. 
 
 " There is nothing for me to say, Monseigneur," 
 replied the count, emphatically, " except that you have 
 shown yourself both a liar and a coward." 
 
 Anjou flushed hotly and his hand again sought his 
 sword. He was no match for Chabanes in the con- 
 trolling of temper. 
 
 " Heaven grant long life to his gracious Majesty, 
 King Charles IX.," continued Chabanes, coolly, " not 
 only since he is king, but because France is in danger 
 of seeing on her throne the most despicable creature 
 in the realm." 
 
 Monsieur drew his sword and sprang forward, cry- 
 ing, " Fool, you shall pay dearly for this insult ! " 
 
 Chabanes, who was unarmed, seized a light walking- 
 stick that lay across the table, and before Monsieur 
 knew what had happened, the count had brought into 
 service an old trick that wrenched his antagonist's 
 weapon from his excited grasp. Monsieur stood 
 trembling in mingled fear, hatred, and regret that he 
 had been so forgetful of himself. 
 
 Chabanes calmly picked up the sword, broke it 
 across his knee, and returned the pieces to their 
 owner. "You have dishonored it, Monsieur," he 
 said, simply.
 
 A RESTRAINT AND A DELIVERANCE 3 1 5 
 
 Anjou was unable to reply ; he felt that he would 
 make any sacrifice to be out of that room, away from 
 the presence of the man that had taught him so severe 
 and humiliating a lesson. At length, in desperation, 
 he uttered a forced laugh, bowed to Chabanes, who 
 returned the obeisance, and departed without a word. 
 
 Shortly after, a guard led in Hercules. " My 
 friend," said Chabanes to the dog, when the turnkey 
 had retired, " the king's brother has just been here ; 
 he had the most absurdly flimsy lies to tell, and in 
 return for them I gave him a lesson in what is most 
 foreign to his cowardly nature, Honor. He would 
 have fared ill, doubtless, had you been here, for, true 
 to his nature, he attacked with his sword your un- 
 armed master. You would not have idly witnessed 
 that act, would you?" and he caressed the animal 
 fondly. 
 
 Slowly the days of spring and summer crawled by, 
 without Chabanes receiving other word from the out- 
 side world than the meagre details supplied him by 
 the governor of the Bastille. With each day the 
 count's desperation increased. He realized that the 
 deadly enmity that Monsieur now bore him made his 
 chances of pardon next to nothing. His only hope 
 lay in the possibility of Anjou's being called to 
 England, which now seemed utterly out of the 
 question, or to the throne of Poland, which seemed 
 probable in the event of the death of Sigismund 
 Augustus II., king of that country. The count 
 learned from the governor of the refusal of Anjou to 
 hearken to the proposed alliance with England ; how 
 Tavannes had suggested to Monsieur that it would be
 
 316 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 but fitting for him to ask Robert Dudley, Elizabeth's 
 ambassador, to marry Mile, de la Chateauneuf, 
 Anjou's mistress, as an exchange of courtesies ; how 
 the king had urged the marriage and the queen- 
 mother opposed it ; how the cavaliers of Anjou's suite 
 had composed epigrams on the disparity of years and 
 the want of personal charms in Elizabeth ; and how 
 Monsieur had finally withdrawn from the affair on 
 religious grounds. 
 
 The arrival at court, in August, of the Amiral de 
 Coligny offered Chabanes grounds for hope, in the 
 event that his incarceration had been a result of the 
 suspicion that he was a Huguenot. This hope was 
 very slight, however, and it soon vanished when no 
 word came to him, notwithstanding the admiral was 
 held in high favor by the king, and the Protestants 
 were, according to the governor's reports, the heroes 
 of the hour. 
 
 Summer dragged into autumn, Chabanes' despair 
 increasing daily. He became taciturn and melancholy 
 to the verge of madness. His fellow-prisoners and 
 the governor failed dismally in their attempts to rally 
 him from his despondency. He was no longer able 
 to interest himself in them or in books, but brooded 
 constantly over his galling restraint and his uncer- 
 tainty in regard to the safety of Victoire and the 
 affairs of the prince. 
 
 Finally, when winter came, he grew petulant and 
 often almost violent. The governor noticed this 
 change in him, as did every one else about the 
 chateau. One day he approached the count, who 
 was pacing energetically up and down the courtyard.
 
 A RESTRAINT AND A DELIVERANCE 317 
 
 " M. le Comte," he said, with some hesitation, " I 
 have never asked you for your word not to attempt 
 to escape. In view of the unusual liberties you enjoy 
 here, I have decided that it is my duty to make such 
 a request of you now." 
 
 " I give you my word, Monsieur," replied the 
 count, coldly, " on this condition : that if opportunity 
 of escape offers, I may withdraw my word." 
 
 " Then I am to understand that, until you inform 
 me differently, I have your promise to make no such 
 attempt?" 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 The governor withdrew not a little astonished by 
 the singularity of the count's reply. 
 
 It was January. The cold north wind swept down 
 through the high-walled courtyard that for Chabanes 
 had so long formed " out-doors." The count, muf- 
 fled in a heavy cloak, spent as much time as possible 
 inhaling the crisp, bracing winter air. He studied 
 the angles, corridors, and architecture of the Bastille 
 as he had never done since his incarceration. He 
 was casting about him for a plan of escape as his 
 last resort. The thought that he could not recall a 
 single instance of a prisoner evading the vigilance 
 with which the great prison was surrounded served 
 only to increase his desire and determination. He 
 studied the habits of the guards, particularly the 
 one that had been assigned to him, with a view of 
 using them to his purpose. He knew the distances 
 from the sills of the windows to the ground below, 
 and to the tops of the walls, as accurately as if he
 
 318 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 had been a mason or an architect. He had cau- 
 tiously tested the honesty of the turnkeys and had 
 found them all incorruptible. 
 
 One day a new guard brought him his breakfast, 
 and the count examined him closely. He was a 
 man of average height, fairly well muscled, and pre- 
 possessing. He wore a dark beard and long hair 
 and his complexion was that of a man that had 
 passed many years bareheaded in the face of the 
 elements. His hands and feet, however, were too 
 small and well formed to be those of a peasant. He 
 left the cell without speaking and the count did not 
 address him. A few hours later the count met the 
 governor in the latter's library. 
 
 " You have a new guard, I note, M. le Gouverneur," 
 he said, carelessly. " Why have you changed ? " 
 
 " This one is a friend of Giles, the old guard, and 
 has come to take the latter's place while he makes a 
 little excursion into Picardy, where his mother lives. 
 The new one will be here but two weeks, at the end 
 of which time Giles will have returned." 
 
 " I was not aware that such substitutions were 
 customary." 
 
 "They are not, Monsieur," replied the governor, 
 frankly, " and I should doubtless receive a severe 
 censure were it generally known that I had permitted 
 this one. However, Giles, who has never given me 
 the least cause to doubt his word, vouched for this 
 substitute, whom he has known all his life, and I 
 finally consented to risk him." 
 
 That evening the new guard brought Chabanes' 
 supper. He placed it carefully on the table and
 
 Mwdj& 
 
 I -^ 
 
 'IF I GO, IT WILL BE WHEN YOU ARE FREE'
 
 A RESTRAINT AND A DELIVERANCE 319 
 
 went to the door, but, instead of going out, as the 
 count expected him to, he took the key cautiously 
 from the outside, closed the door and locked it from 
 within. Then he turned and approached the aston- 
 ished count. 
 
 " Make no outcry, Raoul," he said, in a low tone ; 
 " it is I, Montpensier." 
 
 Chabanes started to his feet and recoiled several 
 steps. He had not heard that voice for more than 
 a year, and now the sound of it dumbfounded him. 
 Montpensier went to him and embraced him; little 
 by little the count recovered his wits ; finally, he fell 
 back in his chair, exhausted and nerveless. 
 
 " Charles," he said, feebly, " this is more than I 
 can ever deserve. You here in this guise risking 
 your life for me ! The thought is maddening. You 
 must go at once." 
 
 " If I go," replied the prince, firmly, " it will be 
 when you are free." 
 
 " Charles," persisted Chabanes, " you are a prince 
 of the realm and a subject of the King of France. 
 Your services belong to your country and your king. 
 You have no right to jeopardize your usefulness in 
 this manner." 
 
 " Raoul," replied the prince, calmly, " you are a fool. 
 I will listen to no further nonsense from you." 
 
 Chabanes uttered a sigh of resignation. " If you 
 will have it so," he said, in a melancholy tone, " I 
 suppose I cannot dissuade you. So tell me at once 
 the things I am dying to know." 
 
 "Victoire is well and sends you greetings. Let 
 that suffice for the present. We have work to do."
 
 320 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 " Tell me your plans at once." 
 
 " They are simple. To-morrow morning when you 
 go to the governor's library you will carelessly open 
 the large chest that stands opposite the door. In it 
 is kept the cast-off clothing of the turnkeys. I am 
 unable to gain access to it unobserved. You must 
 select a suitable garb, place it on top of the pile, and 
 close the chest, without being perceived by any one. 
 After that there is nothing left for us but to wait for 
 an opportunity when the corridors are cleared and 
 you may gain the library unseen at night. I have a 
 wig and a false beard that will serve to disguise you, 
 and I will give you the password and my commission 
 as guard. Probably the former will suffice, but if 
 you are too closely questioned the latter will doubt- 
 less procure you a means of egress from the Bastille. 
 If you are discovered you can use the pistols I have 
 for you." 
 
 "And when 1 am outside the Bastille ?" asked 
 Chabanes, with terrible eagerness. The simplicity 
 of the plan was incredible, seemed miraculous. 
 
 " Once outside, you will go to the Cours-la-Reine, 
 where during the next two weeks a horse already 
 saddled will constantly be kept for you. You will 
 pronounce to the groom the single word, ' Mont- 
 pensier,' he will deliver the horse to you, and you will 
 make all speed to Champigny by the posts." 
 
 "And you?" 
 
 " I will remain at the Bastille another twenty-four 
 hours until I am sure you are safe at Champigny. 
 Then I will leave, go to the hdtel, and remove this 
 disguise that has been so successful in concealing
 
 A RESTRAINT AND A DELIVERANCE $21 
 
 from you, of all persons, my identity. Search will 
 be made for the missing prisoner and the guard that 
 assisted in his escape. One will be safe at Cham- 
 pigny, whither Victoire has just gone, and the other 
 will have completely vanished." 
 
 , " But how are you going to prevent the governor 
 from knowing that I have gone ? " 
 
 " In the same manner that your valet, Frangois, 
 prevented Victoire from knowing that you had gone 
 to Jarnac to save my life," replied the prince, affec- 
 tionately. The count blushed furiously and averted 
 his eyes, not even daring to ask how the prince had 
 gained this information. " I will carry you your 
 meals and report you indisposed to the governor." 
 
 "But if he should insist on visiting me here?" 
 
 " I will find an excuse that will prevent him from 
 doing so." 
 
 "And what of Giles, the guard whose place you 
 have taken ? " 
 
 " He will never return to Paris. He has retired on 
 an annuity into Picardy." 
 
 " Charles, I cannot accept so great a sacrifice from 
 you. Do you not realize that the king is likely to 
 place you in the same position that I now occupy, 
 when he learns you are harboring an escaped pris- 
 oner of state, a man accused of I know not what 
 treasons?" 
 
 " There is no necessity for his learning of your 
 whereabouts, at least not until he can be prevailed on 
 to grant you a full pardon. The servants at Cham- 
 pigny are all devoted to you, and they will never reveal 
 your presence there. When you go out you can
 
 322 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 always be disguised. I will cause the report to be 
 spread at court that you have been heard from in 
 England." 
 
 Chabanes felt himself obliged to yield. 
 
 " Do you agree to the plans ? " asked the prince, 
 seeing that his friend was weakening. 
 
 " On condition that they shall not be carried into 
 effect until the day after to-morrow. I have to with- 
 draw from the governor my word to him that I would 
 not attempt to escape." 
 
 At this intelligence Montpensier sighed, but he did 
 not at once reply. He feared that the governor 
 would redouble the guard in that part of the fortress 
 and render the escape impossible as planned, but he 
 knew that the count would remain inexorable in 
 regard to his word. " Very well," he said at length. 
 " Now I must go, or I may be suspected." 
 
 He bade Chabanes an affectionate good-night and 
 retired cautiously. 
 
 The next day, when the governor met Chabanes in 
 the courtyard the latter was in high spirits. He was 
 humming a hunting air and fairly dancing along 
 rather than walking. 
 
 " M. de Chabanes is himself again," thought the 
 governor, and he invited him to dine with him that 
 evening. The count readily accepted the invitation 
 he had already selected his disguise from the great 
 chest in the library and at dinner that night he 
 excelled himself in repartee and wit. As he was 
 rising at a late hour to return to his chamber, he 
 suddenly changed his tone and said solemnly, " M. le 
 Gouverneur, I regret to anounce to you that I must
 
 A RESTRAINT AND A DELIVERANCE 323 
 
 withdraw my word that I would not attempt to escape 
 from your fortress." 
 
 " What do you mean, Monsieur? " asked the gover- 
 nor, whose wine had gone a little to his head and who 
 was not certain that he had heard aright. 
 
 " Not to evince any lack of appreciation of your 
 excellent hospitality, Monsieur, as I hope you will 
 understand. What I mean is that I intend to escape." 
 
 The governor glanced incredulously at Chabanes. 
 Then, as the count had anticipated, he burst out 
 laughing heartily. 
 
 " Monsieur," he said, rather thickly, " your humor 
 is too much for me to-night. I suppose you intend 
 escaping say, to-morrow? " 
 
 " Exactly, Monsieur. To-morrow night." 
 
 The governor laughed again. " In that case," he 
 said, opening the door for the count, " I shall lose a 
 most pleasant dinner-companion." 
 
 " Nevertheless," repeated the count, seriously, " I 
 withdraw my word," and he retired. The governor 
 gave the matter no further attention, fully believing 
 that the count was jesting. 
 
 In the passage without, Chabanes found Montpen- 
 sier, who was waiting to reconduct the prisoner to 
 his chamber. 
 
 When they had arrived there, the count whispered 
 to his friend, " To-morrow night," to which the latter, 
 as he was closing the door, replied, " All is arranged." 
 
 The prince's plans worked without a single hitch. 
 He had chosen a time when the governor was in 
 another part of the fortress, and Chabanes had ex- 
 perienced no difficulty in gaining the library and
 
 324 4 PAR FIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 drawing on the clothing he had selected over that he 
 already wore. He passed the three sentries that were 
 on duty at as many gates and at length gained the 
 street and freedom. 
 
 The sense of great relief emboldened him, and he 
 at once decided, with an impulse of bravado, to try 
 the effect of his disguise on the first person he recog- 
 nized. As he was passing down the Rue Saint-Denis 
 chance brought him face to face with the Due de 
 Guise, who, with several gentlemen, was on his way 
 to the Louvre. The count, whose new garments were 
 all in rags and tatters and who wore a flowing white 
 beard and a shock of white hair, doffed his hat, and, 
 approaching Guise, whined, " Charity, please." 
 
 The latter responded by aiming at the supposed 
 beggar a blow that would have flattened him on the 
 pave had the latter not nimbly dodged. The count 
 ran off down the street laughing mockingly, and Guise, 
 whose temper was ruffled, ordered one of his gentle- 
 men to pursue the beggar and administer to him 
 a sound thrashing. Shortly after, the gentleman 
 returned out of breath, saying, " It is the devil him- 
 self, Monseigneur ; he runs like Hermes ! "
 
 XXVIII 
 
 A RECITAL AND A REQUEST 
 
 /^HABANES found Montpensier's horse at the 
 ^-^ Cours-la-Reine, and he accomplished the jour- 
 ney by post to Champigny without incident. He was 
 greeted with the utmost joy by Victoire, who would 
 scarcely allow him a moment's rest before she insisted 
 on relating to him everything that had occurred in 
 France, or for that matter, in Europe, during his long 
 incarceration. 
 
 The night after his arrival they were seated before 
 the fireplace in the great hall, just as we have seen 
 them on another January evening three years before. 
 Victoire had been describing the events that occurred 
 in connection with the marriage of the king and 
 Elizabeth of Austria at Me"zieres, and had gone as far 
 as, " The court left Villars-Cotterets and went to 
 Blois," when she was interrupted by a servant who 
 brought a message that had just been received. It 
 was from the prince and Chabanes eagerly tore it 
 open. "All is well," it said simply. 
 
 " Thank God ! " exclaimed the count, fervently, as 
 he handed the note to the princess. " Now, Victoire, 
 I feel that I can listen to you with all my attention." 
 
 " The court went to Blois," continued Victoire, at 
 length, " on the first of April. The ambassadors of 
 Queen Elizabeth of England were received there, and
 
 326 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 for a time it seemed as though a marriage between 
 Monsieur and the queen would be arranged. At any 
 rate Monsieur was the hero of the hour, and he went 
 about everywhere in high feather. One evening he 
 approached me in the queen-mother's cabinet. I 
 was standing a little apart from the others, reflecting, 
 I believe, on the manner in which all our efforts to 
 secure your pardon had failed. Monsieur said, ' Why 
 so melancholy, Mme. de Montpensier?' 
 
 " ' Monsieur is evidently too happy this evening 
 for me to burden him with my woes,' I replied. 
 
 " ' On the contrary,' said he, in his usual tone of 
 flattery, ' my pleasure at being the confidant of Mme. 
 de Montpensier, even in the most trivial matter, 
 would exceed all other possible happiness.' 
 
 " I was struck with the thought that perhaps after 
 all I could prevail on him to use his influence in your 
 behalf. I know now that I might as well have asked 
 assistance of a block of wood. ' Monsieur,' I said, as 
 calmly as possible, ' can prove the truth of his state- 
 ment by granting me a slight favor.' 
 
 " ' Which is ? ' asked he. 
 
 " ' That you seek from the king a pardon for my 
 friend, the Comte de Chabanes.' 
 
 " The duke whistled deprecatingly and shrugged 
 his shoulders. ' That is a very large favor, Madame,' 
 he replied. 
 
 " 'Nevertheless, you will grant it, will you not? ' I 
 pleaded. 
 
 " ' Let us walk in the corridor here, Madame, and 
 reflect,' said he, and I followed him hopefully. For 
 several minutes we walked in silence. Suddenly,
 
 A RECITAL AND A REQUEST 327 
 
 when we had come opposite a curtained alcove, he 
 stopped and, drawing me within, said, in a tone and 
 with a look that I know not how to describe, ' What 
 favor will you grant me in return, Madame ? ' 
 
 "Though I was terrified by his demeanor, I 
 responded as bravely as I knew how, ' You will 
 possess my everlasting gratitude, Monsieur.' 
 
 " ' It is not gratitude that I desire, Madame, as you 
 well know,' said he, with a horrible leer that set me 
 to trembling with a nameless terror. He attempted 
 to put his arm around me and I was on the point of 
 screaming, when I heard the voice of Charles without. 
 Monsieur jumped away from me as though he had 
 been shot and left me as the prince came in sight, 
 saying, ' I am willing to exchange favors with you, 
 Madame, whenever you are willing.' 
 
 " I told Charles about the incident at once and he 
 well, he fell into one of those odd fits of anger 
 that one never knows the exact cause of, and insisted 
 that I should avoid Monsieur as I would a serpent, 
 which I certainly intended to do." 
 
 Chabanes was heart-sick on hearing this recital. It 
 pained him beyond expression to think that, for his 
 sake, Victoire had been exposed to such insults. 
 
 " M. de Guise exerted every effort with both the 
 king and Monsieur," continued Victoire. " Charles, 
 though he has worked tirelessly to secure your release, 
 has maintained his old attitude toward M. de Guise, 
 and it was on the latter's account, I am sure, as well 
 as on account of your coming, that I was sent here to 
 be alone and a prisoner while every one else is being 
 very happy at court"
 
 328 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 "Were you, then, very happy at court, Victoire?" 
 asked the count. 
 
 " Of course, not when you were in prison, Raoul, 
 but I should enjoy being at Paris very much, now 
 that I know you are free." 
 
 "From what do you derive the greatest pleasure? 
 From the balls and masques?" 
 
 " No, from the daily life ; from the conversation 
 with clever persons." 
 
 "Such as ?"' 
 
 " Such as oh, everybody ! Such as M. de Guise." 
 
 Chabancs hastened to change the subject. " Charles 
 will not return to Champigny at once?" he asked. 
 He had had no opportunity of discussing with the 
 prince the latter 's plans. 
 
 " He believes not until summer." 
 
 " I am afraid you will have a dull time of it here 
 alone with me, Victoire," said the count, sadly. 
 
 " Raoul," she cried, in disappointment, " how can 
 you say such a thing? Some of the happiest moments 
 of my life have been spent here in this spot convers- 
 ing with you. You are the. best friend I have in the 
 world, and if you knew the never-ceasing want I have 
 felt during all this last year, I am sure you would 
 never doubt me. Indeed, I know no others, except 
 M. de Guise, in whom I can take more than a passing 
 interest. Ah, if you only knew how I have suffered 
 for you, alone in that gloomy prison for more than a 
 year, you would not say that I would be unhappy 
 with you ! " 
 
 "And you would as lief be with me here as at 
 court with M. de Guise?"
 
 A AECITAL AND A KEQUEST 329 
 
 "I I would like to have you both with me 
 always," said Victoire, naively. " You occupy such 
 entirely different places in my heart I cannot 
 explain it, but I always want to know that I have 
 two such good and such different friends." 
 
 The count felt the old jealousy steal over him; 
 his hatred of Guise awoke with doubled fury. He 
 was again filled with the impulse to denounce the 
 man whose whole life was a lie and who so artfully 
 misled and deceived Victoire; and, as before, this 
 impulse was met by his firm resolution to do nothing 
 that was prompted by selfish jealousy. As before, 
 he remained silent. 
 
 "You have a brave husband, Victoire," he said, 
 at length. " Few men in France would have had 
 the courage to attempt such an escape as he planned 
 and executed for me. I shall never be able to dis- 
 charge the obligations I am under to him." 
 
 " Fie, Raoul," replied the princess, " you have 
 made him your debtor long before this. Are you 
 not ashamed to have kept from me so long your part 
 in the battle of Jarnac?** 
 
 Chabanes thanked the lengthening shadows for 
 concealing his blushes. " How did you learn of it? " 
 he asked. 
 
 "I was one day talking to Charles about your 
 illness at that time, and how excited I grew over 
 your failure to appear for so many days. He was 
 struck with surprise and questioned me eagerly about 
 the length of your illness and the time that I found 
 you. Then he exclaimed, in a tone of the greatest 
 joy, ' It was he ! ' and began dancing about the room
 
 33O A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 like a madman. When he had at length sufficiently 
 regained his composure, he told me the story of the 
 man that had saved his life at Jarnac, and pointed 
 out that the armor and the time of your illness, as 
 well as the bearing of the man at Jarnac, and your 
 feigned indifference whenever he had mentioned the 
 subject to you, were conclusive evidence against 
 you." 
 
 Shortly afterward the count retired to his apart- 
 ments, where the faithful Frangois awaited him as of 
 yore. 
 
 There was something in Chabanes' manner that 
 led Victoire to reflect profoundly that night, with the 
 result that she concluded that his long incarceration 
 had in a measure estranged him from her. She 
 noticed that he often became reticent during their 
 conversations, failing, however, to remark that such 
 periods occurred only after the mention of Guise by 
 herself. She could not guess that he was in constant 
 fear of losing his self-control and denouncing the duke 
 in such fashion as that to which his feelings prompted 
 him, but that his pride and chivalry forbade. Silence 
 became his sole resort and safeguard, and she blindly 
 attributed his manner to a growing coldness. As a 
 result she herself became cold toward her friend, 
 and he also failed to understand. With equal blind- 
 ness his feelings led him into a belief and fear that 
 Guise had taken advantage of the past year to usurp 
 that place in Victoire's affections that had formerly 
 belonged to Chabanes. He felt that, could Mont- 
 pensier have been the successful rival, even in the 
 torments of jealousy he could have found a content.
 
 A RECITAL AND A REQUEST 331 
 
 But the successful one, doubtless, was the unworthy 
 Guise. 
 
 Chabanes early divined that Victoire longed to be 
 in communication with the duke. Indeed, in the 
 unconscious despair aroused by what she considered 
 Chabanes' coldness, this desire on the part of the 
 princess had greatly augmented. She was unable 
 longer to find in the count the sympathy she had 
 always expected and received from him. She was 
 filled with sorrow and her thoughts turned to Guise. 
 Perhaps he could supply what her nature so ardently 
 craved. 
 
 So it happened that time did not pass as smoothly 
 at Champigny as it had done before the count and 
 the princess had gone to the court at Paris. Melan- 
 choly began to weave its insidious tendrils about the 
 hearts of both. 
 
 On one occasion Chabanes ventured to ask Victoire 
 if she never heard from Guise. She brightened per- 
 ceptibly and expressed a regret that fear of the jeal- 
 ousy of the prince, who, she was confident, watched 
 through his agents her every move, had so far pre- 
 vented her from even receiving the tiniest note from 
 Guise. 
 
 With this regret there also grew up in the princess' 
 mind a deep sense of indignation and resentment 
 against the policy of her husband in distrusting and 
 spying on her. This the count did not at once see. 
 Instead, he continued to attribute the gradual estrange- 
 ment of himself and Victoire solely to his own dis- 
 placement by Guise. 
 
 Not for an instant, however, could Chabanes bring
 
 332 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 himself to believe that, during his incarceration, the 
 relations of Victoire and Guise had become more 
 serious than they had been from the very first. 
 Victoire, he felt, was incapable of practised deceit, 
 and he also placed so much reliance in the knowledge 
 he possessed of her character as to consider it impos- 
 sible that he should be even momentarily misled by 
 her. He saw in the relations of the two, therefore, only 
 the hero-worship and the indefinite longing for admira- 
 tion and sympathy that had possessed Victoire at first, 
 and the unscrupulous and deceitful passion of Guise. 
 
 One day in February, when the princess had been 
 speaking to Chabanes of inconsequential things in an 
 absent fashion that betrayed her preoccupation, the 
 count was suddenly startled as he had never been in 
 all his life by a proposition Victoire made him. 
 
 " Raoul," she said, with evident premeditation, " I 
 am sure you have been disappointed in me of late, 
 finding me changed and unnatural. Of course you 
 have noticed the transformation that has come over 
 me, for it has been only too apparent to myself. I 
 think it is all due to the fact that we have dropped 
 out of the habit of confiding in each other, and, 
 strangely enough, have had difficulty in recovering it. 
 I am going to ask you something that will doubtless 
 astonish you, but which I feel sure you will not deem 
 unworthy." 
 
 Chabanes was at a loss to know what Victoire had 
 in mind. He felt intuitively that a blow was coming, 
 and he nerved himself with all his strength to receive 
 the impact. " I hope you may never fear to be per- 
 fectly frank with me," he said, simply.
 
 A RECITAL AND A REQUEST 333 
 
 " I have expressed to you often enough my admira- 
 tion and liking for the Due de Guise and I have 
 always felt that you sympathized with me whenever 
 the jealousy which Charles has several times so un- 
 reasonably exhibited gave me pain. Naturally, your 
 position as the most devoted friend of both him and 
 myself has prevented your taking a stand against 
 either of us, but I never could believe but that you 
 realized, as did I, the unjustness of the prince's 
 anger. Before I left Paris, as a result of this same 
 causeless anger, the Due de Guise expressed a sincere 
 desire to write to me occasionally in order that we 
 might both be pleasantly reminded of our true friend- 
 ship. The desire that this wish of his might be ful- 
 filled has constantly haunted me since my return 
 here. I believe I shall not be myself until I may thus 
 gratify not only one that has shown me every atten- 
 tion and kindness, but myself." 
 
 She paused and looked anxiously at Chabanes as 
 though she knew not how to continue. He was con- 
 scious only of the violent tempest of jealousy and 
 despair that her words aroused within him, but he 
 concealed his feelings with that power of dissimula- 
 tion that belongs only to the strongest temperaments. 
 " Victoire," he said, gently, " go on." 
 
 " Well, in short, Raoul, as you know, I am not able 
 to receive or despatch a single letter without my hus- 
 band at once hearing of it. He warned me that he 
 would take every precaution to prevent my communi- 
 cating with M. de Guise. However, I wish to hear 
 from and write to the duke, as is my right, and, since 
 my husband is so unreasonable and so lacking in self-
 
 334 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 control, I do not wish him to know of the correspond- 
 ence. Raoul, will you receive and deliver the letters 
 M. de Guise and I write to each other?" 
 
 The sudden directness of the question almost dis- 
 sipated the count's wonderful self-control. For a 
 moment he dared not reply. He gripped the arms 
 of his chair fiercely in a final effort both to realize 
 the full import of her words and retain his self- 
 mastery. 
 
 " It is only after due deliberation," she continued, 
 " and because I am aware that your knowledge of me 
 teaches you that I am incapable of dishonorable 
 action, that I ask you this. I am not ashamed of my 
 friendship for the duke ; I only regret my husband's 
 ungovernable temper. Were he reasonable he would 
 not thus deprive me of an innocent pleasure and 
 cause me to ignore a faithful friend. You believe 
 with me that I am in the right, do you not, Raoul?" 
 
 Still Chabanes did not at once reply. He longed 
 to be able to denounce to Victoire the man she so 
 greatly admired, but still his chivalrous sense of 
 honor forbade it ; it was not Chabanes' wont to speak 
 ill of the absent, nor was he confident of his ability 
 to accomplish more, in exposing Guise, than to cause 
 the princess much unconvinced pain. Denunciation 
 was hardly a weapon that he was fitted to handle. 
 Besides, he was very jealous, knowing why the prin- 
 cess so admired Guise, and suffering because she 
 seemed to prefer what the duke offered, and what was 
 in reality worse than worthless, to the prejudice of 
 the boundless love and sympathy that Chabanes was 
 constantly and reverently laying at her feet. In the
 
 A RECITAL AND A REQUEST 335 
 
 face of his jealousy and indignation that Victoire 
 should be blind alike to what was true in his love and 
 vile in that of Guise, he was filled with a desire to 
 preserve her from all discomfort. Her life was so 
 sadly lacking in that of which she constantly showed 
 the need and craving, and he that could satisfy the 
 necessity was hopelessly handicapped by fate, or 
 circumstances, or whatever you may call it; what 
 wonder if he longed to compensate her in every way 
 that still remained possible? 
 
 But his soul revolted at the secrecy of the mission 
 she asked him to undertake. It was evident to him 
 that during his imprisonment she had suffered much 
 at the hands of her husband's insensate jealousy ; his 
 heart ached with sympathy for her; his soul was 
 filled with remorse, as though he had been in some 
 way to blame for his detention and consequent 
 inability to save her from such suffering. 
 
 Yes, he agreed with her that she had a perfect 
 right to hear from M. de Guise, for he felt that her 
 conception of her relationships with Guise was that 
 of the most unselfish and disinterested friendship. 
 Why would Montpensier not realize how the very 
 innocence of his matchless wife precluded all possi- 
 bility of jealousy on his part? What advantage did 
 the impulsive prince expect to gain by so hedging in 
 his wife's liberty? 
 
 "Victoire, I trust you above all persons in the 
 world, and yet I like not the secrecy of such a corre- 
 spondence as you propose. Why not conduct it 
 openly? Surely reason will move the prince." 
 
 His tone was unconvincing; it was all too evident
 
 336 A PARFIT GEN TIL KNIGHT 
 
 that he was trying to argue himself into an impossible 
 belief. 
 
 " Raoul, no one knows better than you that Charles 
 is without reason in this matter." 
 
 The count was forced to admit the truth of the 
 statement. Montpensier was entirely unreasonable. 
 
 Victoire arose and went to his side ; then she seated 
 herself on a stool and leaned her elbows on the arm 
 of his chair. She looked imploringly into the count's 
 thoughtful eyes. 
 
 " I sometimes believe, Raoul, that it is not for the 
 sake of hearing from M. de Guise, or of doing justice 
 to the friendship that we have always maintained, as 
 much as for the sake of asserting the pride that chafes 
 under the injustice of Charles' demands. I know I 
 shall be utterly wretched until I have freed myself 
 from this slavish sense of oppression that the memory 
 of his untrusting words casts over me. Carry one 
 letter to M. de Guise, Raoul, and bring me an 
 answer. You shall read both. If they in any way 
 merit the suspicion with which my husband has re- 
 garded such a correspondence you will frankly tell 
 me and I will give it up for all time." 
 
 " Perhaps your husband is in a better position to 
 judge, Victoire, not only in regard to the correspon- 
 dence but to the man to whom he objects." 
 
 " I do not think that possible, Raoul ; I believe 
 that I am in every way capable of judging them, and 
 that I have had every opportunity." 
 
 " Charles loves you dearly," persisted Chabanes, 
 sorrowfully. 
 
 " Yes, but it is a selfish love in which there is no
 
 A RECITAL AND A REQUEST 337 
 
 trust, and I lack faith in a passion that inspires, instead 
 of absolute confidence, constant suspicion. Besides, it 
 is a poor lover that seeks to hold his mistress by force." 
 
 " But you are his wife." 
 
 " Yes, Raoul, but not his slave. Heaven knows I 
 have fought a hard battle to be his wife as you have 
 taught me to be ; and in return I am rewarded only 
 with distrust and tyranny that are unendurable." 
 
 Chabanes reflected for some moments. At length 
 Victoire asked, earnestly, " Will you do it, Raoul?" 
 
 " No, Victoire ; I like it not ; there is evil in it." 
 He spoke laboredly ; evidently it pained him greatly 
 to refuse. 
 
 Victoire sighed reproachfully and arose. A servant 
 passed the door and she called after him; instantly 
 he reappeared. 
 
 " Emile," she said, determinedly, " I desire you to 
 carry a letter for me ; I will have it ready in a few 
 moments. You may wait for it." 
 
 She seated herself at a table and began to write ; 
 the count's heart sank as he watched her hurriedly 
 indite and seal the short missive. Montpensier would 
 at once learn of this letter to Guise; Chabanes 
 pictured the sufferings of his friend. The prince 
 would be beside himself with anger and jealousy ; he 
 would do the first rash deed that suggested itself. 
 
 " fimile," said the count, " you may go." 
 
 The lackey looked uncertainly to his mistress. 
 
 She was about to detain him angrily, but she caught 
 Chabanes' eye and refrained. The count's face was 
 set with resolution. " Go ! " he repeated, and fimile 
 vanished.
 
 338 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 " You shall not do this, Victoire." 
 
 " Raoul, you are cruel. Carry just this one note 
 for me." 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Please." 
 
 " I cannot." 
 
 She came close to him and looked imploringly into 
 his eyes. " Will you not reserve your decision until 
 you have reflected well?" 
 
 " I have already done so." 
 
 " Ah, but, Raoul, do not decide finally until to- 
 morrow, at least. Think well of all I have said to 
 you. I know you will change your mind. At any 
 rate, promise to reflect." 
 
 " I will reflect, Victoire, and so must you, on my 
 words. I can tell you now that my decision will not 
 change." 
 
 " Well, let us see."
 
 XXIX 
 
 A QUARREL AND A REPENTANCE 
 
 f I V HE following morning Chabanes found Victoire 
 radiant with smiles, awaiting him in the great 
 hall. So sincere was her belief in the propriety of 
 her position and the equity of Chabanes that she really 
 expected that he would have decided to agree to her 
 proposition. 
 
 " I have not changed my mind," he said, simply 
 and gently. She was so beautiful in her confident 
 expectancy ; it seemed such cruelty to wound her with 
 disappointment. 
 
 For an instant petulant tears dimmed her blue eyes. 
 Then her face assumed an expression of resolution. 
 
 " Very well ; I shall risk the servants. This time 
 you must not interfere." 
 
 " Victoire, be rational, I beg of you. What you 
 propose is sheerest madness. As you value your own 
 happiness and your husband's, I implore you not to 
 do this rash thing. You do not understand its signi- 
 ficance or you could not have asked me to dishonor 
 myself by playing the part you suggested, nor could 
 you so easily jeopardize your own self." 
 
 " I am determined, Raoul." 
 
 Chabanes grew more and more desperate. " Vic- 
 toire," he pleaded in anguish, " pity me a little. I am
 
 34O A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 tortured at seeing you so blind to your own welfare. I 
 am no longer as much to you as I always was. I see 
 you grow daily more unhappy and I can cause you not 
 the slightest pleasure. Can you not see how I suffer 
 for you? Will you not try to consider how terribly 
 you are constantly wounding me? I am weak God 
 knows it no better than I ! but I have tried to 
 stifle my jealousy and to crush every selfish or rebel- 
 lious impulse, that I might, in some measure, bring 
 happiness to yourself and to my friend. Pity me, for 
 I suffer terribly. I am conscience-stricken and jealous 
 you do not know what that means ! I love you." 
 
 " Monsieur," said the princess, turning on him in 
 petulant anger, " without reproaching you I permitted 
 you to address me in this manner once before. I 
 shall never do so again, I promise you. I had hoped 
 you would fully realize your position." 
 
 " My position ! " exclaimed Chabanes, passionately. 
 " Heaven knows the realization of it is crushing out 
 my life ! My position is that of the confidant whose 
 worn-out sympathy is discarded, and who is valued 
 only as the executor of doubtful missions ! Would 
 you make me add to my own guilt? " 
 
 Chabanes' load of woe could not admit of this ad- 
 ditional grief without a protest. He was like an 
 animal, panting, exhausted, at bay. His temper had 
 mastered him for the first time since he was a child. 
 White with rage at the mistreatment to which Vic- 
 toire's petulance and his own weakness had subjected 
 him, he left the chateau and rode at a terrific speed 
 to Chinon, where there resided an old retainer of his 
 house, a retired bourgeois inn-keeper, Maitre Carti-
 
 A QUARREL AND A REPENTANCE 341 
 
 gnac. The count no longer had even his dog con- 
 fidant, Hercules having necessarily been left behind 
 at the Bastille. 
 
 At Chinon, after he had in a fashion regained the 
 mastery of a temper that once unchecked was like a 
 terrible storm, he sat down and wrote to Victoire. 
 
 " My dear Victoire," the letter ran, " after the incident of 
 yesterday you will realize that it is utterly impossible that I 
 should remain longer at Champigny. I do not know where 
 I shall go or what I shall do. I regret with all my heart that 
 I have laid myself liable to your anger, as I regret that 
 change in you that has rendered you unable, in the midst of 
 your own desires and misfortunes, to give either your hus- 
 band's wishes or my own feelings a moment's thought. I 
 can only, in expressing the hope that God may guide and 
 protect you, bid you an utterly unhappy and irrevocable 
 farewell. RAOUL." 
 
 Victoire received the count's message after a sleep- 
 less night, during which her conscience had tortured 
 her beyond measure for the ruthless manner in which 
 she had replied to her faithful friend's devotion. She 
 recalled every attribute of Chabanes, always the soul 
 of honor and chivalry and good, gladly risking his 
 life for his friends, and ever sparing his enemies. 
 She thought of the innumerable pleasures he was 
 always contriving for her, the unfailing advice he 
 always offered her, the unlimited fidelity of his devo- 
 tion to her husband and herself. Memory pictured to 
 her in a thousand attitudes the Comte de Chabanes at 
 court or at Champigny, always the accomplished, tact- 
 ful courtier, always a nobleman whose sense of truth and 
 honor so far surpassed that of every other in France, ex-
 
 342 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 cepting possibly M. de Guise ever that belief! and 
 always a man to whom her heart went out in admira- 
 tion that she now felt was more than she had ever 
 realized. Life without Chabanes, while he lay in the 
 Bastille, had been, even in the busy whirl of court life 
 and intrigue, wretchedly lacking and incomplete. 
 Now, alone, at Champigny, cut off from Guise, mis- 
 trusted by her unappreciative husband, with no one to 
 advise her, no one in whom to confide, no one to offer 
 true sympathy, she felt that life would be unbearable. 
 On receiving the count's letter she bade the bearer 
 wait, and shortly after he carried to Chabanes this 
 reply : 
 
 " Forgive me, Raoul, for what was done impulsively, when I 
 was scarcely myself. I realize that, after my rudeness, you 
 will find it difficult in your heart to return, but, believe me, 
 I have not slept for thinking of you and the inestimable value 
 of your friendship. Please come back to Champigny, if it is 
 only for an hour. We have been too much to each other to 
 part thus. Heaven knows I need you more than I can ever 
 adequately express ! " 
 
 How she did need him, and how long it took her to 
 fully realize it ! 
 
 This reply was more than Chabanes had expected. 
 Each word of it brought back to him a charm of 
 Victoire 's that had long since been enshrined in his 
 memory. He also had passed a sleepless night, 
 torn one minute by remorse and by a wounded 
 pride that made him feel that he could never forgive 
 the insult it had received, and the next by a fierce, 
 wild longing to go to Victoire, throw himself on his
 
 A QUARREL AND A REPENTANCE 343 
 
 knees before her, and implore her forgiveness. He 
 nervously read the letter several times ; then he 
 walked the floor of his chamber for more than an 
 hour. In the end his love triumphed. From a 
 slightly different viewpoint he reached the same con- 
 clusion at which Victoire had arrived, that life 
 alone would be unbearable. 
 
 When he reached the banks of the Vienne Victoire 
 was there on horseback, attended by a single groom. 
 
 " I knew you would return, Raoul ! " she cried, with 
 unrestrained pleasure. " I have been so thoughtless, 
 so ungrateful." 
 
 His happiness was intense; the evidence of her 
 valuation of his friendship was too great and too 
 sincere for him to doubt it. She told him that she 
 readily relinquished her plan to correspond with 
 Guise, acknowledged that she had been wrong, and 
 begged his continued advice and confidence. For 
 many days the conditions at Champigny were more 
 of the old harmony of their first years there. Cha- 
 banes again became Victoire's confidant and the 
 horizon of both was for a time cloudless. 
 
 But the princess had not forgotten her liking for 
 the Due de Guise nor her indignation toward her 
 husband. Soon the old desire to communicate with 
 the duke and to be freed from the slightest restraint 
 Montpensier could impose on her burst out with 
 increased strength in the heart of Victoire. She again 
 felt herself in the right and the count in the wrong, and 
 her confidences gradually became more rare. With 
 the realization of this return of the old discontent 
 grew Chabanes' hopelessness. The tenderness and
 
 344 A P^KFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 consideration with which Victoire regarded him began 
 to lack spontaneity. Vaguely the fear arose in him 
 that the memory of Guise was crowding out of 
 Victoire's heart all other interests. In vain Chabanes 
 sought to promote the happiness of the princess; 
 and he failed utterly in his attempt to arouse in her a 
 stronger and a more charitable sense of duty to her 
 husband. 
 
 Antoinette de Lerac played a small part in the 
 affairs of Champigny, though her life sorrow was 
 none the less daily augmented. Resigned to the 
 disappointment that her unfortunate passion had 
 incurred, she had lived in the hope of witnessing the 
 success and happiness of the object of her adoration. 
 Instead she saw the Comte de Chabanes daily stoop- 
 ing under a weight of sorrow that could end only by 
 completely crushing him. She had seen with grief 
 that his imprisonment had wrought great changes in 
 his appearance, though not in his convictions, and 
 she now witnessed with infinite pain increasing lines 
 of care and grief seaming his noble forehead and the 
 further whitening of his hair, as he almost uncon- 
 sciously fell into that lethargy of mind and body that 
 was the natural result of his position. With the quick 
 intuition of a woman's love she realized what he suf- 
 fered, and her heart, bound by every condition to 
 eternal silence, held out its throbbing sympathy, im- 
 ploring him to accept it, but always unheeded. She 
 went about her daily tasks patiently and sadly, un- 
 noticed. From the sprightliest of girls she had, in a 
 few years, been transformed into the soberest of 
 women. Life offered her but one inducement, her
 
 A QUARREL AND A REPENTANCE 345 
 
 religion, which was as steadfast as her love and which 
 alone guided her weary footsteps along a lonely, 
 barren way. 
 
 In July the Prince de Montpensier returned to 
 Champigny, and Chabanes was forced to own to him- 
 self that, notwithstanding his love for the prince, he 
 witnessed his coming only with a sense of deepest 
 alarm. Victoire welcomed her husband with many 
 misgivings and the greatest reserve. The prince was 
 immeasurably pained to find his household beneath 
 some vague, gloomy spell, the cause of which he 
 could not ascertain, and which, in consequence, he 
 knew not how to combat. He frankly confessed his 
 alarm to the count, who, partly because his deadened 
 faculties no longer seemed to realize completely the 
 true condition of affairs, and partly because he dared 
 not express to the prince his convictions, replied with a 
 semi-indifference that deeply grieved Montpensier. 
 
 The spell was not long in taking hold of the latter 
 also, and he soon found the cheerlessness and silence 
 of Champigny perfectly natural. Indeed, at this hour 
 gloom had settled over all France. A superficial 
 gilding of hysterical gaiety pervaded the life of the 
 court, the falseness of which was about to reach 
 its zenith. The people, fanatical in their devotion 
 to their priests, murmured ominously against the 
 favor that was being shown the Protestants. Jeanne 
 d'Albret, Queen of Navarre, the most strikingly 
 worthy feminine figure in all Europe, had perished at 
 the court of her that had greeted her with hypo- 
 critical effusiveness. Catherine de M^dicis was 
 believed by all the Huguenots to be the assassin of
 
 346 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 their queen, and, although the Amiral de Coligny was 
 the ostensible favorite of the fickle king, misgivings 
 filled the minds of the Protestants as they reluctantly 
 agreed to the marriage of their new leader, Henri de 
 Navarre, with Marguerite de Valois, the sister of 
 Charles IX. 
 
 The Due de Guise, filled with hatred of the good 
 old admiral, whom he ever believed to be the assassin 
 of his father, was working night and day to the 
 attainment of his revenge. It was not surprising, 
 therefore, that he forgot even Victoire in the excite- 
 ment of the tempestuous life about him, and in which 
 he was the central figure. Victoire's disappointment 
 grew daily deeper, and she began again to forget all 
 interests save her own. Chabanes was filled with a 
 vague sense of impending and overwhelming disaster, 
 but as yet this intuition had not served to arouse 
 entirely his lethargic faculties for the final struggle. 
 Montpensier, beneath the general influence, gradually 
 relapsed into melancholy taciturnity.
 
 XXX 
 
 A FATALITY AND A TEMPTATION 
 
 ONE day Father Goriot, a peasant that lived on 
 the estate, came to Champigny to inform the 
 Comte de Chabanes that a gentleman awaited him at 
 the old man's hovel on the bank of the Vienne. 
 Chabanes had been in the habit of using this place 
 as a rendezvous for several gentlemen with whom he 
 occasionally went hawking in the preserves. Don- 
 ning a simple disguise that he generally assumed on 
 leaving the chateau, the count mounted his horse and 
 rode to the hovel. He found awaiting him there the 
 Due de Guise. The duke greeted Chabanes effus- 
 ively, not noticing the despair the latter evinced on 
 seeing him. 
 
 " My dear M. de Chabanes," said Guise, when 
 they had exchanged greetings, " you see I have found 
 your hiding-place. But do not fear for a single 
 instant that my rejoicing at seeing you free and in 
 safety is so slight that it will permit me to dream of 
 discovering your retreat to your enemies. One of my 
 gentlemen, acting as my messenger, recently saw you 
 as he passed this way. He penetrated your admi- 
 rable disguise and, knowing the favor in which I have 
 always held you, discreetly told no one except myself 
 of his discovery. It is he alone that has accompanied 
 me here."
 
 348 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 Chabanes listened coldly; he foresaw evil in this 
 unusual prelude. " And to what am I indebted for 
 this visit, Monsieur? " 
 
 " Partly to my desire to congratulate you on your 
 freedom, and partly to the fact that I wish to ask of 
 you a slight service." 
 
 "And this service is ?" asked Chabanes, with an 
 incredulous shrug. 
 
 " I desire you to arrange for me a means of secur- 
 ing a brief interview with Mme. la Princesse de 
 Montpensier." 
 
 For an instant Guise, reckless bravo that he was, 
 quailed before the wrath and indignation that flashed 
 from the count's eyes. Instinctively the duke's hand 
 sought his sword, but the hand dropped gracefully to 
 his side : he saw that Chabanes' coolness had con- 
 quered his anger. 
 
 " Monsieur," said the latter, coldly, almost haughtily, 
 "you have already done me the honor to listen to 
 my opinions on the subject of a gentleman's duty, 
 especially to the woman for whom he professes a sin- 
 cere inclination. I can only hope that you will again 
 do so. There is but one way for you to see Mme. de 
 Montpensier without involving the anger of her hus- 
 band and her own ruin. You must be received by 
 her in her apartments, alone and at night. You 
 understand what that means. Knowing this, is it 
 possible that you still desire an interview with her? " 
 
 " Ah, M. de Chabanes, you are a man of feeling 
 and spirit," cried Guise ; " when I tell you that I am 
 on the verge of desperation, that I have ruthlessly 
 deserted affairs of immeasurable importance to come
 
 A FATALITY AND A TEMPTATION 349 
 
 here, when I tell you that my life actually depends 
 on my seeing Mme. de Montpensier, if but for 
 a single moment, surely you will not be hard on 
 a heart that surfers beyond expression. A man of 
 your wit can easily devise a means of my seeing the 
 princess without another soul being a whit the wiser. 
 I assure you that I merely desire to look on her, to 
 speak to her a single word, to hear once more the 
 music of her voice. Then I will go, satisfied and 
 strong, if need be, never to see her again. Is there 
 anything dishonorable about such a desire, spring- 
 ing from so sincere a passion?" 
 
 "The question is unnecessary, Monsieur. You 
 know my views." The count realized that, having 
 determined to accomplish his purpose, no amount of 
 reasoning could influence Henri de Guise. 
 
 The latter repressed his pride, knowing that if he 
 aroused the anger of the count he would be helpless. 
 " But, M. de Chabanes," he implored, " surely you 
 would be willing to leave the decision of the point to 
 Madame herself! " 
 
 "I will repeat to her what you may desire me 
 to say," replied the count, haughtily. He felt his 
 strength slowly ebbing away. 
 
 " That is all I could ask of you, Monsieur," replied 
 Guise, confidently. " By so doing you will obtain my 
 eternal gratitude." Chabanes shrugged his shoulders 
 expressively. " Tell Madame what I have just said 
 to you, that I am dying to see her, and that, if she 
 values my life, she will grant the trifling favor I crave." 
 
 Chabanes mounted his horse, without uttering 
 a word, and slowly rode away to the chateau. Guise
 
 350 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 watched him impatiently. "This count is the most 
 stubborn man I ever knew ! " he exclaimed to the 
 gentleman that accompanied him. 
 
 Chabanes repaired at once to Victoire's apartments, 
 where he found her alone. 
 
 "What is it, Raoul?" she asked, when he had 
 entered. She did not detect the atmosphere of abso- 
 lute despair that enveloped him. 
 
 " Victoire, I have just seen M. de Guise. He is at 
 Father Godot's." His voice sounded strangely harsh 
 and unnatural. 
 
 " M. de Guise at Father Goriot's ! " exclaimed the 
 princess, incredulously. " And what message did he 
 send?" 
 
 " He desires a brief interview with you. He pro- 
 tests that his life depends on his seeing you," replied 
 the count, coldly. 
 
 Victoire's heart bounded with joy, and a flush of 
 pride overspread her temples. M. de Guise had not 
 forgotten her, after all ! He had even come in person 
 to Champigny, and he protested that his life depended 
 on his seeing her, if only for a moment ! But how 
 was he to see her? That would be a difficult matter 
 for her to arrange without the prince knowing of it. 
 Like the count, she saw at once that there was but 
 one way: Guise must come to her apartments that 
 night. But that would be very wrong ! How could 
 she ever forgive herself if she allowed him such a 
 privilege, when her husband was under the same roof 
 and furiously jealous of the duke? Ah, but M. de 
 Guise, who was the soul of honor, desired to speak to 
 her only for a moment. It was far beyond him to be so
 
 A FATALITY AND A TEMPTATION 351 
 
 base as to intend her the slightest disrespect. It was 
 only his great admiration and friendship for her that 
 required the momentary assurance of her own true 
 feelings, in the instant of that accustomed communion 
 with which their souls found it intolerable to dispense. 
 Besides, the interview, though secret would be strictly 
 formal. She would insist on M. de Chabanes being 
 with them from the moment of the duke's arrival to 
 that of his departure. 
 
 Chabanes had noticed her hesitancy in the greatest 
 suspense. A faint hope gradually arose within him 
 that her reason would triumph, or her sense of pro- 
 priety be sorely wounded, and that he would be 
 instructed to return to the duke with her refusal. 
 
 " You know, Victoire," he said, slowly, " the risks you 
 would run if you granted M. de Guise this interview ; I 
 need not dwell on them. Should your husband learn 
 of Guise's presence here we should all be involved in 
 utter ruin. More than that, your reputation would be 
 lost if the facts of the duke's visit ever became other- 
 wise known. I trust that I need not wait longer for 
 the answer you will instruct me to give M. de Guise." 
 
 " Raoul," replied the princess, determinedly, " there 
 is no true reason why I should not grant this slight 
 favor to M. de Guise. Were it not for the insane 
 jealousy of Charles, I might openly and cordially in- 
 vite the duke to Champigny, and it is only because 
 of my husband's ungovernable temper and selfishness 
 that I am compelled to resort to secrecy in a thing 
 that I should be proud to do openly, and to which 
 Charles has no right to object. I have made up my 
 mind. Let those that see evil in my resolution abide
 
 352 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 by it as best they may. I will grant M. de Guise 
 this interview, at no matter what cost. I will not 
 longer be a slave to the selfishness of the prince." 
 
 Her voice rang out with a clearness that crushed 
 every atom of the hope the count had entertained. 
 
 " But, Victoire, I beg you to listen to reason. We 
 cannot avoid the circumstances in which we are 
 placed. You must not forget the danger that your 
 decision incurs. I would gladly give up my life 
 rather than see you involved in the tempest that 
 Charles' fury would bring down on you. Granting 
 that he is wrong to deprive you of a single liberty, 
 yet you cannot afford to risk so much for the mere 
 sake of asserting your rightful independence. " 
 
 " It is no use, Raoul," replied Victoire, heatedly ; " I 
 am determined. I have lived this life of a slave long 
 enough. I am old enough and experienced enough 
 to choose my friends and to be trusted with them. I 
 shall see M. de Guise to-night in this room. If M. de 
 Montpensier discovers the duke's presence, let him 
 act as he may choose. For my part, I believe I am 
 in the right, and I intend to be fearless." 
 
 Her anger was contagious. Chabanes felt that the 
 control of his own temper was slipping from him. It 
 was preposterous that this woman should be so un- 
 reasonable. 
 
 " Very well," he said, coldly, " how are you going 
 to arrange this affair? " 
 
 " Oh, it will be simple. To-night at, say, ten I will 
 come here and await the duke, sending away my 
 women. He will enter boldly, we will converse a few 
 moments, and he will depart."
 
 A FATALITY AND A TEMPTATION 353 
 
 " And how is he to know that you are awaiting 
 him at that hour?" asked Chabanes, white with 
 anger. 
 
 " Why, you will tell him, of course ! " exclaimed 
 Victoire, surprised at the question. 
 
 "Victoire, there is some evil influence at work 
 within you. You have neither respect for your 
 husband's desires nor consideration for his honor. 
 On the strength of a childish conviction that you are 
 unjustly restricted by him who of all persons has a 
 perfect right to restrict you, and to whom you owe 
 the utmost regard, you readily devise a plan the ful- 
 filment of which will more than likely result in the 
 ruin of your husband and yourself, the loss of -your 
 reputation and his honor. For God's sake, let your- 
 self be guided by reason ; if not for his sake to whom 
 you owe a sacred duty, at least for the sake of your 
 own fair name, your own priceless honor ! By the 
 memory of your mother, by your religion, by all 
 that is sacred to you, I implore you not to do this 
 rash, this terrible deed ! Before God, I would rather 
 lay down my life than see you in such peril as that in 
 which you propose placing yourself." 
 
 In reply Victoire petulantly shrugged her shoulders. 
 " I cannot doubt your sincerity, Raoul ; I cannot even 
 justify myself in accusing a natural jealousy of your 
 own of prompting your words. But I am resolved. 
 You do not look at the matter from any standpoint 
 other than that of the tyrannical husband, whose 
 selfishness prompts him only to humiliate and enslave 
 the wife that he professes to love. Love ! What a 
 base passion is love, if it result only in selfishness, 
 
 2 3
 
 354 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 jealousy, and imhappiness ! I repeat that I am 
 satisfied as to the course I shall pursue." 
 
 " No, Victoire, the base passion is the one that can 
 suggest the despoiling of a woman's honor and the 
 jeopardizing of her fair name. Cling to your hus- 
 band's love with all your strength, before you discard 
 it for a meaner passion." 
 
 " Raoul, do you think I have given this matter no 
 thought? I am no longer a child, as I shall prove to 
 you. I will no longer be the will-less chattel of a self- 
 centred master. Heaven knows that you are dear 
 to me and that it pains me to cause you so much 
 unhappiness, but my oppression is no longer to be 
 borne. Tell M. de Guise that he may come to- 
 night." 
 
 " Madame, you are a foolish child ! " exclaimed the 
 count, angrily. " Let me assure you that I will not 
 be a party to any such insanity as you propose." 
 
 " In that case," replied Victoire, controlling herself 
 with a violent effort, " I shall send some one else." 
 
 " But there is no one else that you can send with- 
 out Charles at once learning what you have done." 
 
 "That is not my fault. M. de Montpensier may 
 learn as much as he likes. I shall send the first 
 servant I find to M. de Guise." 
 
 With a resolute air she crossed the room to a table, 
 raised a tiny whistle to her lips, and was about to 
 blow on it. 
 
 Chabanes prevented her with a hasty gesture. 
 " You shall not do that, Victoire," he said, excitedly. 
 " If you have determined beyond the power of reason 
 to influence you, I will go for you myself. I can-
 
 A FATALITY AND A TEMPTATION 355 
 
 not stand idly by and see you voluntarily throw your- 
 self into the fire." 
 
 Victoire's anger. left her. " There 's a dear friend ! " 
 she cried, caressingly. " Now, do not be angry with 
 me, for I am sure that, after M. de Guise has come 
 safely and gone without a soul knowing of it, you will 
 admit that I was right. Go to him at once, Raoul, 
 that he may not become impatient. Tell him you 
 will conduct him here at ten o'clock." 
 
 She laughed delightedly, no longer giving her 
 danger the least thought; she had conquered. 
 
 " This is not the first time that I have sent you 
 with a message to M. de Guise," she added. " Do 
 you remember, once at Mezieres, when you were one 
 of the marquis' guards, and I sent you all the way to 
 Paris with a note for the duke?" 
 
 Chabanes started and changed color; his right 
 hand involuntarily went to his breast, as though for 
 the assurance that something hidden there was safe. 
 He smiled perfunctorily, excused himself, and left 
 the room. 
 
 It was past eight o'clock in the evening and the 
 moon had risen. The count paced slowly up and 
 down the park before the chateau, endeavoring to hit 
 on some plan whereby he could bring M. de Guise to 
 Victoire's chamber without arousing the suspicions 
 of the prince. At length he returned to the princess. 
 
 " We had best postpone the time of M. de Guise's 
 coming until midnight," he said, slowly. " Doubtless, 
 Charles will then have retired, and the duke can enter 
 this room by means of the small drawbridge there, 
 that leads to the court."
 
 356 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 " So be it, then," exclaimed Victoire. " I will help 
 Antoinette to lower the bridge promptly at twelve, 
 and I will be expecting you." 
 
 Chabanes returned sadly to the outer court and, 
 mounting his horse, rode slowly toward Father 
 Goriot's. The conflict of emotions that raged within 
 him was even fiercer than any he had hitherto experi- 
 enced. He was seized with innumerable impulses: 
 to return to the chateau and tell Victoire that Guise had 
 not waited ; to refuse to execute her design to permit 
 the interview ; to leave Champigny and never return ; 
 to seek a quarrel with the Due de Guise and kill him ; 
 to tell the latter that Victoire had refused to see him. 
 This last impulse took fierce hold on him. It recalled 
 Victoire's words, " This is not the first time I have 
 sent you with a message to M. de Guise." He hesita- 
 tingly reined in his horse and took from his doublet 
 a locket, from which he drew a small slip of paper. 
 It was the message with which he had been sent to the 
 Due de Guise from Mezieres, more than five years be- 
 fore, and which the latter, after reading it, had dropped 
 in the Rue du Chaume before the H6tel de Guise. 
 
 The count read the note by the moonlight. " M. 
 de Guise, if he values them, will not endanger his own 
 life and the honor of one he professes to love," it said. 
 It was in Victoire's characteristic and childish hand- 
 writing and without date. 
 
 " It is Destiny ! " cried Chabanes. " What other 
 power could have moved me to preserve this message 
 so carefully during all these years? Surely, Provi- 
 dence takes this means of relieving my difficulty. I 
 have only to give this note to Guise and he will ride
 
 A FATALITY AND A TEMPTATION 357 
 
 away. He would not recognize the message he had 
 received five years ago, and it would accomplish the 
 desired purpose. My friend and my mistress would 
 be saved from a step that involves possible ruin and 
 destruction for us all ! " 
 
 He spurred his horse forward, resolved to pursue 
 the course that Fate so manifestly pointed out to him. 
 
 However, after a few moments, he again drew rein. 
 " No," he said, with conviction ; " it would be a 
 cowardly lie ! I have given my word to Victoire, 
 and it is a word that has never been broken. God 
 forbid that I fail now ! The evil is already done ; this 
 added lie cannot help me. I cannot but feel that it is 
 my death that I am going to meet, and, by the shield 
 of my fathers, I will meet it without subterfuge ! " 
 
 He took the locket from his breast again and drewout 
 the paper ; he read it over several times and imprinted 
 on it a fervent kiss. Then, with a sigh, he deliberately 
 tore it into bits and scattered it to the wind. 
 
 Guise rode merrily back to the chateau with Cha- 
 banes. Neither of the men spoke ; the one was too 
 full of the joy he anticipated, the other of the conflict 
 that raged within his soul. Once Chabanes, in his 
 despair, was on the point of drawing his sword and 
 killing the duke before he could go farther. At the 
 
 O 
 
 very moment his hand was on his sword-hilt his horse 
 stumbled and he was compelled to withdraw it in 
 order to save himself a fall. Guise's gentleman rode 
 behind them, and, when they reached the wall of the 
 chSteau, took charge of their horses. The count led 
 Guise through an unused gate and by a circuitous path 
 to the court on which opened the chamber of Victoire.
 
 358 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 Victoire, after the count had left her, found her- 
 self unable to control the feelings that possessed 
 her. She ardently desired to see Guise again, and her 
 conscience compelled her to admit that this desire 
 had greatly influenced what she had explained to 
 Chabanes as a desire to assert her will in the face of 
 her husband's importunity. She was about to send a 
 servant after the count and beg him to return, but she 
 hesitated until that course was too long deferred. 
 For a time she felt that, after all, as the count had 
 protested, she was doing a great wrong in granting 
 this midnight rendezvous, and she concluded to re- 
 scind her decision ; by not having the drawbridge 
 lowered she could inform the count of her change of 
 mind. Not until a very few minutes before midnight 
 did she falter in this resolution, but at the last mo- 
 ment, her pride rebelling at the thought of her re- 
 straint, her memory torturing her with the many 
 pleasant days that had been spent in the company of 
 the duke, and anticipation tempting her with the joy 
 she was about to cause her admirer, she called An- 
 toinette, who, in amazement, helped her to lower the 
 tiny bridge that led to the court. 
 
 When Chabanes found this drawbridge lowered, 
 his heart sank deeper in despair. Half-unconsciously 
 he had hoped that reason would return to Victoire, 
 and that he would find the bridge still drawn. Now 
 his rage returned with redoubled fury, and he longed 
 to pass his sword through the body of the man who was 
 the cause of all his suffering. However, the knowl- 
 edge that the slightest noise would bring destruction 
 on those he loved was sufficient to restrain him.
 
 A FATALITY AND A TEMPTATION 359 
 
 Guise followed him eagerly over the bridge and 
 into the apartment of the princess. As the duke was 
 leaving the bridge his foot caught in one of the 
 chains, the other end of the bridge was slightly 
 raised, and, on being released, fell with a trifling 
 noise. The heart of Chabanes momentarily stood 
 still and he trembled violently. Neither of the men 
 moved for several seconds, as they listened to ascer- 
 tain what effect the noise might have produced. As 
 they heard no sound they were reassured, and they 
 entered the chamber in the belief that nothing was 
 as yet suspected. 
 
 Victoire had arrayed herself for the occasion as 
 charmingly as she knew how, and Chabanes thought 
 that he had never before seen her so beautiful, while 
 Guise was ravished. The latter approached her with 
 all seeming deference and, kneeling, kissed the hand 
 she radiantly extended to him. 
 
 " Madame," he said, in a low, earnest tone, " this is 
 the happiest moment of my life. Were I to die this 
 instant I should do so joyfully ! " 
 
 The count ground his teeth in impotent rage and 
 jealousy, and, hastily crossing the room, withdrew into 
 the corridor. Victoire, seeing him leave, became 
 greatly alarmed, and, withdrawing the hand that 
 Guise held tightly, followed Chabanes. 
 
 " Please return, Raoul," she implored ; " I beg of 
 you to remain in the room." 
 
 Chabanes did not reply; he dared not speak, so 
 filled with rage was he. Victoire returned help- 
 lessly to Guise, whom she welcomed in a tone that 
 clearly betrayed her distress at being left thus un- 
 expectedly alone with him.
 
 360 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 " Monsieur," she said, " I fear I have done a great 
 wrong in thus allowing you to visit me. I will trust 
 that you will realize my position and, now that I have 
 spoken to you, that you will go at once and spare 
 me further fears." Then, turning toward the door, 
 " Please return, M. de Chabanes," she said, pleadingly. 
 
 " I beg of you to excuse me, Madame," replied the 
 count, controlling his feelings as best he could. " I 
 will remain close at hand." 
 
 Guise bit his lip with vexation ; he had pictured to 
 himself a reception of a different sort. However, he 
 bowed gracefully and replied, " The pleasure of but 
 a single glance is more than I deserve from you, 
 Madame " 
 
 The princess interrupted him. Indeed, she scarcely 
 heard him, so great was her increasing terror. 
 "Raoul," she said, her voice betraying her alarm, "I 
 beg of you to come back ! " 
 
 Chabanes could no longer restrain himself. " This 
 is too much to ask of me ! " he exclaimed, in his 
 passion allowing his voice to rise higher than he 
 knew. He was interrupted by the sound of a step 
 approaching down the corridor from the apartments 
 of the Prince de Montpensier; a second later he 
 recognized the step as that of the prince himself. 
 
 The count rushed into the chamber of the princess, 
 and, closing the door behind him, bolted it. It re- 
 quired but an instant for him to realize the situation 
 and to form a resolution. 
 
 " M. de Guise," he said, with wonderful quietness, 
 " the Prince de Montpensier is approaching. If he 
 finds you here, neither your life nor that of Madame
 
 A FATALITY AND A TEMPTATION 361 
 
 is safe. Go at once and leave me to face the prince's 
 anger." 
 
 The steps without came nearer, and simultaneously 
 courage departed from the breast of the Due de 
 Guise. For once in his evil life his reckless daring 
 failed him. He was alone in this chateau with an 
 implacable and powerful enemy. Moreover, matters 
 of the greatest importance required his immediate 
 return to Paris ; nothing must detain him. 
 
 " No, no, Raoul ! " cried the princess, " you shall 
 not be involved in this wretched affair. Leave us 
 while there is yet time. M. de Guise could not think 
 of allowing you to accept his blame," she added, in 
 wonder that the duke had not already given expres- 
 sion to such a conviction. " Speak, M. le Due," she 
 continued, turning to where, an instant before, Guise 
 had stood. He was gone. 
 
 Victoire read the contempt written on the count's 
 features, and a great revulsion of feeling took place 
 within her. She ran to the open window by which 
 Guise had departed, and, leaning far out over the 
 drawbridge, cried into the night, in a tone of infinite 
 disdain, " Coward ! " 
 
 They heard without the voice of Montpensier de- 
 manding admittance. Victoire, exhausted, fell weakly 
 into a chair. The count, turning, unbolted the door. 
 Then he walked calmly to the centre of the room 
 and seated himself beside a table, on which, his chin 
 in his hand, he rested his elbow. 
 
 " Enter ! " he said.
 
 XXXI 
 
 A DISASTER AND A LIGHT 
 
 MONTPENSIER had heard the noise made by 
 Guise, as the latter entered the chamber of 
 the princess. Contrary to his custom the prince had 
 chosen that night to sit up and read in his bed- 
 chamber until an unusually late hour. His recent 
 gloomy life at Champigny had rendered him unusu- 
 ally nervous, and, at the noise of the falling draw- 
 bridge, he gave a violent start. 
 
 " What noise was that, Antoine?" he demanded of 
 his valet, who was busying himself with his master's 
 clothing. 
 
 " I know not, Monseigneur," replied the valet. 
 " It seemed to come from the court. I will look out 
 of the window." 
 
 Antoine went into the next room and opened a 
 window overlooking the court. Then he returned 
 to the prince. 
 
 "The drawbridge from the chamber of Madame is 
 down, Monseigneur," he said. 
 
 " My wife's drawbridge lowered ! " exclaimed Mont- 
 pensier. " That is exceedingly strange. I will go and 
 inquire the cause. Give me my doublet, Antoine." 
 
 The valet brought the garment, which his master 
 at once donned, at the same time buckling on his 
 sword in an absent way. The prince was utterly at a
 
 A DISASTER AND A LIGHT 363 
 
 loss to explain to himself why Victoire should have 
 the bridge lowered at this hour of the night. 
 
 He opened the door into the corridor just as the 
 count, filled with anger, exclaimed, " This is too much 
 to ask of me ! " Montpensier could not distinguish 
 the voice, knowing only that it was a man's. All his 
 suspicions were at once aroused, and he hurried down 
 the corridor consumed with jealous rage. 
 
 Finding the door of his wife's chamber bolted, he 
 demanded admittance, and in reply heard the bolt 
 slide back and the voice of Chabanes saying, 
 " Enter ! " He reached for the clasp, gave it a turn, 
 and burst into the room. 
 
 His anger momentarily gave way to surprise as 
 he saw only Victoire and the count in the room, and 
 each in an attitude of the greatest dejection. He 
 stopped abruptly and threw up his hands in a gesture 
 of astonishment. For some moments he remained 
 speechless. The thought that the Comte de Cha- 
 banes, the man he loved as a brother, should be 
 alone with his wife in her chamber at this hour, 
 completely paralyzed all his faculties. He could 
 not bring himself to believe his senses. 
 
 " My God, Raoul ! " he cried, at length. " Am I 
 dreaming, or do my own eyes tell me the truth ? Can 
 it be that a man I have loved so dearly should choose 
 my wife out of all the women in the world for his 
 mistress? " 
 
 The count did not answer. He seemed to have 
 fallen into a sort of stupor. 
 
 "And you, Madame," cried Montpensier, turning 
 to his half-senseless wife ; " was it not enough that
 
 364 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 you should take from me my honor without also 
 depriving me of the only man in all the world that 
 could console me for that misfortune?" 
 
 Victoire was incapable of replying. The objects in 
 the room began to swim before her aching eyes. 
 Chabanes endeavored vainly to speak. " I am worse 
 than criminal in your eyes," he said, at last, when 
 speech returned to him ; " I am an ingrate and dis- 
 honored. My death will avenge you, and as I am 
 more unhappy and desperate than you, if you will do 
 me the immediate honor of passing your sword 
 through my body, you will thus obtain for me the 
 sole thing in the world that I can now desire." 
 
 The mortal sorrow of the count's tone and the 
 indubitable air of innocence that surrounded him 
 made it apparent to Montpensier that there was a 
 deep mystery behind the words. His anguish was 
 only augmented by this certainty. 
 
 " Take my own life, Raoul," he cried, in despair, 
 " or explain at once the full import of your words. 
 You owe me this explanation, not only because of 
 our friendship, but because of my moderation. Any 
 other than I would have at once avenged so terrible 
 an affront." 
 
 Chabanes started from his chair in astonishment. 
 He had confidently expected and desired that the 
 prince would at once run him through. The nobility 
 of his friend's refusal to believe him guilty, even in 
 the face of the overpowering circumstantial evidence, 
 touched him to the heart and inspired him to be not 
 less true than the prince had proven himself. 
 
 " Charles," he said, with passionate determination,
 
 A DISASTER AND A LIGHT 365 
 
 " I repeat that I gladly offer you your revenge. I 
 love your wife to madness, and have loved her since 
 the first moment that I saw her, even before you had 
 married her. During the five years that you have 
 intrusted me with your honor I have secretly betrayed 
 you. Twice I have said to your wife what you alone 
 in all the world had the right to say : 4 1 love you.' 
 Though, as God is my witness, she is as innocent as 
 an angel, though she has never.offered me the slightest 
 grounds for belief that she could ever look on me as 
 anything but a friend, I have loved her with all my 
 soul, and I still love her far better than life itself. 
 Kill me; it is your right. But you cannot accuse 
 her of evil. Strike ! as I have ever seen you strike 
 in honor's cause without reluctance." 
 
 The prince's half-drawn sword clanged back in its 
 scabbard. Intense despair impressed Chabanes' pale 
 features. " You hesitate ! " he cried, in wildest grief; 
 " and I dare not ask you why. The reason is an old 
 and honest one ; ha ! ha ! the Comte de Chabanes 
 can only be the first to recognize it. A man a man 
 may not dishonor his sword ! " 
 
 His hands, which had been extended back at his 
 sides in an eloquent gesture of fearless resignation, 
 flew to his forehead, he wavered, and the impassioned 
 outburst dwindled to a sigh. 
 
 Montpensier, who, at the count's first words, had 
 started in anger and in the end had sunk back on a 
 divan, sat with his head buried in his hands. His 
 friend's confession filled him with grief that ended in 
 incredulity. In his agony he recalled all that Cha- 
 banes had been to him and to his domestic affairs, the
 
 366 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 innumerable storms the count had averted, the conso- 
 lation he had always offered both husband and wife, 
 the unswerving fidelity with which he had shielded 
 her .and thought for him, and he was on the point 
 of accusing the count of falsehood in saying that he 
 loved Victoire. This, too, however, he knew to be 
 impossible; such a lie was totally foreign to Cha- 
 banes' nature. Then, " How he has suffered all these 
 years ! " thought Montpensier, " while he has been ex- 
 erting every effort to maintain the equanimity of my 
 household, while he has forgotten himself and his 
 love in an endeavor to create my happiness, while he 
 has risked his life that I might live to enjoy the 
 woman he loved ! " 
 
 The prince was overwhelmed with grief; he did 
 not move. Chabanes had fallen back on his chair, 
 where he sat, his head on his breast, scarcely con- 
 scious of his surroundings. As for the princess, 
 she sat bolt upright in her chair, endeavoring to 
 realize the full import of all Chabanes had said. 
 Presently Chabanes, who had fallen into a stupor, 
 arose, stared vacantly about him, and left the room. 
 He no longer realized where he was or what he was 
 doing. Exhausted in every faculty by the strain of 
 emotion under which he had for long been laboring, 
 mind and memory had given way and he wandered 
 aimlessly through the prince's apartments and out of 
 the chateau. Finding his horse tied where he had 
 left it with the follower of the Due de Guise, he 
 mechanically mounted it and rode away without heed 
 of direction or destination. 
 
 For a time Victoire was scarcely more alive to the
 
 A DISASTER AND A LIGHT 367 
 
 circumstances than was Chabanes. When the latter 
 had left the room, however, she put forth a mighty 
 effort and collected her scattered wits. The self- 
 sacrifice of Chabanes was so great that she could 
 scarcely believe it possible. On the other hand the 
 cowardice of Guise in thus permitting the innocent 
 count to bear his blame was a terrific blow, revolution- 
 izing as it did her long-formed opinion of the duke. 
 ..Chabanes' words, " The base passion is the one that 
 can suggest the despoiling of a woman's honor and 
 the jeopardizing of her fair name," rang constantly in 
 her mind. Mentally she went over all the events of her 
 relations with Guise, viewing them in the light of her 
 recent revelations. Roughly enough the idol had 
 been shattered, and now she wrathfully trod its frag- 
 ments into the mire of contempt, while on its pedestal 
 she placed the noble Comte de Chabanes. Guise had 
 been base in all things, and she had been blind to his 
 baseness. Why had not Raoul told her? But had he 
 not done so in a thousand ways ? Guise's passion was 
 base ; at heart he was a coward ; he had the soul of a 
 scoundrel. What an immense gulf lay between such 
 a nature and that of Raoul ! What a contrast ! 
 Raoul had offered her a love that was all self-sacrifice ; 
 Guise gave only selfishness. Guise was the vilest of 
 men ; Chabanes was the most noble. 
 
 She arose and began pacing the floor as if to 
 collect strength for what she desired to say. Mont- 
 pensier did not look at her. 
 
 " Charles, " she said, presently, in a low voice, 
 " you must hear my confession now. I love your 
 friend better than all the world. He is the noblest
 
 368 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 man God ever created. Do you not see how he has 
 sacrificed himself and borne the guilt that should rest 
 doubly on my shoulders? Was there any need for him 
 to tell you that he loved me? Can you doubt now 
 that he also loved you better than he loved himself?" 
 
 The prince had risen to his feet at his wife's first 
 words, all his old natural jealousy and suspicion 
 impulsively returning. 
 
 " So you love him, too, do you ? " he asked, with a ( 
 snarl of rage. " In God's name, woman, tell me 
 whom you have not loved, aside from your husband ! " 
 Then remorse seized him almost immediately, and he 
 fell back on the divan, crying, " Raoul, Raoul ! For- 
 give me the suspicion ! You know her better than I. 
 How can I blame her for loving you ? " 
 
 " He did not tell you all, Charles," continued the 
 princess, noting with increasing sadness her husband's 
 misery, which after all, sprang from the loss of his 
 friend rather than from that of his wife. " Like the 
 great, true nobleman that he is, he refused to clear 
 himself at the expense of your honor and mine of the 
 stigma appearances cast over him. You cannot 
 do not believe him guilty of dishonor to you. Of 
 other men you could scarcely help believing it. 
 Listen to me : I am the guilty one ; there was another 
 man ! " 
 
 Montpensier sprang to his feet and his sword 
 flashed from its scabbard, as Victoire shrank back in 
 terror. " His name ! " he cried, hoarsely, " before I 
 kill you ! " 
 
 The princess recovered her self-possession. " Kill 
 me, if you will," she replied, " but hear me first."
 
 A DISASTER AND A LIGHT 369 
 
 Montpensier, with a groan of despair, bade her 
 hasten. 
 
 " 1 have long been possessed of an insensate admi- 
 ration for one that I thought the equal of any noble- 
 man in the world, even of Raoul. Time and again our 
 dear friend has in his chivalrous way warned me against 
 the man, but I have not heeded. By your apparent 
 jealousy and distrust I have been impelled to listen to 
 the words of attachment with which that man showered 
 me. Now I know him to be despicable beyond all 
 words. M. de Guise has been here to-night." 
 
 The prince was half-crazed by his wife's confession. 
 " But Raoul," he cried ; " how came he in this room 
 at such a time ? " 
 
 " He came to bear the duke's blame and your 
 anger, that you might not know of my infamy." And 
 she rapidly related the events of that day and night : 
 how, by her disregarding all things save her own 
 desires and wounded pride, she had driven the count 
 to conduct Guise to her, and how Chabanes had sought 
 by every risk and every sacrifice to preserve the 
 prince's honor and comfort and her reputation. 
 
 Hardly had she finished when there was a violent 
 knocking at the door, and Montpensier was obliged to 
 swallow his rage and excitement before answering it. 
 Francois burst into the room. 
 
 " It is the king's messenger, Monseigneur," he cried, 
 excitedly, " and he insists on seeing you at once." 
 
 " I cannot see him now," said Montpensier, angrily. 
 
 " But I beg of you, Monseigneur," said another 
 voice from behind the valet, "to grant me a mo- 
 ment" 
 
 24
 
 3/0 A PAR FIT GEN TIL KNIGHT 
 
 " Enter, then," said Montpensier, controlling him- 
 self with an effort, " since you are so insistent." 
 
 The messenger entered the room and the prince 
 recognized him as a lieutenant of the queen-mother's 
 guard. Victoire, at the appearance of the valet, had 
 concealed herself behind a hanging. The messenger 
 handed Montpensier a sealed letter, which the latter 
 at once tore open and read. 
 
 It was from Catherine de Medicis, demanding his 
 immediate presence at court. 
 
 " What is the news from Paris ? " inquired the 
 prince, when he had read the letter. 
 
 " There is much excitement, Monseigneur, and it is 
 rumored at the Louvre that the King of Navarre and 
 all the Huguenots are to be put to the sword at once. 
 At any rate all the Catholic princes that are away 
 from court are being summoned in great haste." 
 
 " There is no reply, Monsieur," said Montpensier, 
 with a gesture of dismissal. 
 
 When the messenger had gone Victoire came forth 
 from behind the hanging. The prince sat despond- 
 ently on the divan, his chin resting on his hand. 
 Victoire stood before him, waiting for him to speak. 
 
 " Victoire," he said, with infinite sadness, at length, 
 " this letter is an imperative summons to court from 
 the queen-mother. I fear that terrible events are 
 about to occur in Paris ; even a massacre of all the 
 Huguenots in France is perhaps imminent. As for 
 ourselves, I know not what to say. Our life together 
 has been filled with but false happiness at best ; we 
 were never suited to one another. It has only been 
 through the intervention of Raoul, on whom in return
 
 A DISASTER AND A LIGHT 371 
 
 we have brought the utmost misery, that we have 
 maintained our relationship so well. It is obvious 
 that we must part. I cannot believe you guilty in 
 the face of Raoul's assurance of your innocence. 
 Why he had to love you and suffer so in his endeavor 
 to maintain our comfort, God only knows. When I 
 think of what he has endured for our sakes God 
 help me ! but I almost wish you had always loved 
 him and that you two might have been happy to- 
 gether. I must go, now," he continued, his voice giv- 
 ing every evidence of breaking, " and it were better 
 that I should never see you again. Here is my hand 
 and with it my forgiveness for any harm you have ever 
 done me. I beg of you to pardon the unhappiness I 
 have so often caused you. Champigny and all its 
 estates shall remain yours. I I hardly know what 
 else to say to you except this : Love Raoul 
 always as I shall love him; make him happy as 
 you alone can. I I thank God for such a friend ! " 
 He was gone before she could speak, although she 
 had knelt at his feet and had showered his hand with 
 mingled kisses and tears. There were tears in his 
 eyes also before he left her, and she fancied that 
 she heard him in the corridor, sobbing as though 
 his heart would break. She threw herself on the 
 divan, crushed with a weight of remorseful grief. 
 What ruin she had brought on these two men, and 
 what nobility each, in his own way, had displayed ! 
 Her dislike for Montpensier was supplanted by the 
 most profound respect ; after all, he had truly loved 
 his friend. In her despair she was fully conscious of 
 but one yearning, which seemed to absorb all the in-
 
 3/2 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 terests of her life ; the image of Chabanes as he stood 
 fearless before her enraged husband and accepted 
 another's blame arose before her, and she longed to 
 rest her tired head on his noble breast and sob out 
 the sorrow that overwhelmed her. How she yearned 
 for his gentle voice and the true words of comfort 
 that he alone could offer ! How she longed for the 
 opportunity to show her remorse and repentance for 
 having so recklessly disregarded his advice and for 
 having so cruelly tortured him with her childishness ! 
 And how her spirit recoiled in abhorrence at the 
 thought of the valiant M. de Guise, seizing his cloak 
 and allowing Raoul her Raoul, who loved her so 
 truly and so nobly ! to sacrifice himself! 
 
 She wished it were morning that she might send for 
 him, and she went to the curtained window in the 
 hope of discovering evidences of the dawn. The 
 round, white moon was still shining high in the dark 
 sky. Below her, in the court, she saw men and horses 
 and she could hear the murmur of voices and the ring 
 of hoofs on the pavement. It was the Prince de 
 Montpensier and his retainers starting for Paris. Al- 
 ready they had mounted and a groom had opened 
 the great gate to the park. The gentlemen were 
 filing out, and the prince remained for a moment be- 
 hind. Now they are all, save him, in the park. He 
 wheels his horse and, removing his plumed hat, looks 
 up to the window where she stands. His face is set 
 with unutterable sadness, but he forces a smile and 
 throws her a kiss. Now he has dashed through the 
 gateway, as he thinks, to leave Champigny forever. 
 
 The princess turned to her divan with a sigh of in-
 
 HE WHEELS HIS HORSE AND LOOKS UP TO THE WINDOW
 
 A DISASTER AND A LIGHT 3/3 
 
 finite woe, the while her husband rode toward Paris 
 at the head of his half-dozen gentlemen. As long as 
 his life lasted, he knew, he would carry in his heart 
 that picture of the fair, grief-stricken woman outlined 
 in the casement high above him, of the pale, beautiful 
 face on which the white moon shed its melancholy light. 
 
 Presently Victoire called for Antoinette. The 
 entire household of the chateau had been aroused by 
 the arrival of the royal messenger and the departure 
 of the prince. 
 
 " Madame," asked the maid, with great agitation, 
 " do you know what has become of M. de Chabanes? " 
 
 " No, Antoinette ; can he not be found ? " said 
 Victoire, excitedly. She was suddenly filled with a 
 vague fear for him, knowing in what desperation he 
 must be. 
 
 " M. de Montpensier, before leaving, asked Antoine 
 to call M. le Comte, but changed his mind before the 
 valet could obey. Antoine had started for M. de 
 Chabanes' apartments when his master called him 
 back. I heard them talking of M. le Comte and, 
 passing Francois' door, I knocked. There was no 
 answer, and at length I ventured to push open the 
 door. The apartments were deserted." 
 
 Scarcely had the maid finished speaking when 
 Frangois appeared in the doorway. 
 
 " Quick, Frangois," exclaimed Victoire, who saw 
 despair written on the valet's countenance, " tell us 
 what has happened." 
 
 " Heaven alone knows, Madame," replied Frangois, 
 who was wringing his hands in despair. " His horse 
 is gone and he has left no word. The messenger that
 
 374 A PARFIT GENTTL KNIGHT 
 
 came for M. de Montpensier saw M. le Comte. Be- 
 fore departing the messenger said to me, ' A half- 
 hour ago I saw a man riding on the road to Paris 
 whom I could swear I recognized as the Comte de 
 Chabanes. I approached him and spoke several 
 words to him. He merely regarded me blankly, 
 gave me no answer, and rode on. Had I not carried 
 such important messages I should have arrested him, 
 for M. de Chabanes is an escaped prisoner of the 
 Bastille and there is a price on his head. I should 
 gather from his strange behavior and the fact that he 
 is riding boldly and undisguised toward Paris that 
 the count has lost his reason ! ' ' 
 
 " And why have you not told us this before?" de- 
 manded the princess, frantic with fear for the count. 
 
 " Madame, I have been seeking him everywhere 
 about the neighborhood, but I have found no trace 
 of him." 
 
 For some minutes the princess paced the floor, 
 consumed by intense grief. Finally she told the aston- 
 ished maid to be seated and to listen to her atten- 
 tively. Francois, in utter dejection, still stood in the 
 doorway. 
 
 " Antoinette," said Victoire, speaking very rapidly, 
 as though she had considered well what she was 
 saying, " do you remember, when we were girls to- 
 gether at Mezieres, how we used to shock the marquis, 
 my father, by donning men's clothes and racing like 
 mad across the fields, astride the ponies of the 
 guard?" 
 
 "Yes, Madame. Why?" 
 
 " I am going to see if I have forgotten how. I
 
 A DISASTER AND A LIGtiT 375 
 
 will disguise myself in the prince's clothing, a wig, 
 and a false beard, take a horse, and money, and ride 
 to Paris. I am going to see if I can overtake M. de 
 Chabanes. Will you accompany me ? " 
 
 " Yes, Madame," replied the maid, eagerly ; " but we 
 must make haste. Already he has an hour's start." 
 
 " Francois," continued Victoire, with determination, 
 " saddle three of the best horses at once and prepare 
 to accompany us to Paris." 
 
 "But I will go alone, if you desire, Madame," 
 volunteered the valet, who disliked the prospect of 
 accompanying two women on such a journey. 
 
 "Thank you, Francois," replied the princess; "we 
 will all go." 
 
 "Antoinette," said Victoire, a few moments later, 
 when they were hastily donning masculine clothing, 
 "you have often expressed a hope of ending your 
 days in the Church ; are you ready now to follow me 
 to the convent?" 
 
 " With all my heart, Madame," cried the maid, her 
 black eyes flashing with eagerness. 
 
 " Very well, when our search for M. de Chabanes 
 is ended, I shall be ready to go to Mother Frangoise 
 and tell her that I will stay." 
 
 An hour later a passing stranger would have 
 believed he saw three men riding forth from the 
 chateau on the road to Paris as the first streaks of 
 morning light shot across the sky. 
 
 Francois rode behind Victoire and her maid. The 
 princess, whose heart was heavy with the emotion of 
 the night and her fear for Chabanes, in part con- 
 fided both to Antoinette. The maid, long since the
 
 376 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 conqueror of any jealousy she may have once known, 
 rejoiced in the happiness with which the count would 
 learn of the princess' affection and fidelity, and she 
 breathed many a prayer that they might succeed in 
 saving him from all harm. To keep up their flag- 
 ging spirits they planned their future, when M. de 
 Chabanes would visit Victoire at the peaceful convent 
 of Sainte Catherine and they would unite their efforts 
 to make bright the remainder of his gallant life.
 
 XXXII 
 
 A PROMISE AND A BLUNDER 
 
 ON the evening of the second day after he had left 
 Champigny that is, on Saturday, the twenty- 
 third of August, 1572 the Comte de Chabanes 
 rode idly into Paris. He had ridden slowly, at night 
 tethering his horse and sleeping in a field, and he 
 had had nothing to eat since he had started. How- 
 ever, he felt no hunger. Indeed, it could scarcely be 
 said that he was conscious of any distinct feeling or 
 desire. He seemed to be wandering in a sort of 
 waking dream that absorbed all sense of personality. 
 The streets of Paris possessed some vague familiarity, 
 and he rode idly up and down them, gazing vacantly 
 at the houses and the people. The city was thronged 
 with cavaliers, both Catholic and Huguenot, attracted 
 from all over France by the marriage of Henri de 
 Navarre and Marguerite de Valois, which had taken 
 place on the preceding Monday. As Chabanes' 
 horse at length turned into the Rue Saint-Denis, a 
 small troop of cavaliers, all in red cloaks and sur- 
 rounding a personage evidently of no little impor- 
 tance, dashed past him. The personage had hardly 
 ridden twenty paces before he reined in his horse, 
 and, leaving his attendants to continue on their way, 
 he rode quickly back until he was at the count's side.
 
 378 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 "Do I again have the pleasure, M. de Chabanes?" 
 he inquired, ironically. 
 
 The count turned and eyed him coldly. The man 
 that had just accosted him was the Due d'Anjou. 
 There was but a faint gleam of recognition in Cha- 
 banes' eye, as he bowed stiffly. 
 
 " Your coolness is unbounded, M. de Chabanes," 
 continued Anjou, with no little astonishment in his 
 tone, " when you know that it is absolutely certain 
 that I shall at once have you arrested, and that you 
 will be returned to the Bastille from which you so 
 miraculously escaped." 
 
 Still Chabanes did not reply. He was feebly and 
 vaguely trying to realize the import of the duke's 
 words, which sounded to his disordered mind inco- 
 herent and meaningless. 
 
 Anjou, not realizing the count's mental condition, 
 gazed at him admiringly. " Pardieu ! You are too 
 audacious a man, Monsieur," he said, in a patronizing 
 tone, " to be languishing in prison." 
 
 Chabanes had at last found a word. " Yes," he 
 murmured, not having the slightest idea as to what 
 he heard or said. He was like a child that has learned 
 a new word, and he kept repeating the monosyllable 
 to himself, " Yes yes yes." 
 
 Anjou was evidently contemplating some impulsive 
 idea, as he did not speak again for several moments, 
 riding slowly at the count's side. " You can be of 
 service to me, M. de Chabanes," he exclaimed, 
 presently ; " are you willing to help me if I assure 
 you of a full pardon ? " 
 
 " Service help me pardon," thought Chabanes, 
 inanely. He repeated aloud his monosyllable, " Yes."
 
 A PROMISE AND A BLUNDER 379 
 
 " Good," exclaimed Monsieur, " and since we are 
 at the Louvre we will dismount and enter. Of 
 course, you need have no fear of any one accosting 
 you while you are with me." 
 
 Chabanes watched Monsieur dismount, and, as he 
 had long been in the saddle, the idea occurred to him 
 to follow his companion's example. Then, from 
 sheer lack of anything else to do, he mechanically 
 followed Anjou into the palace, up the stairs, and 
 down a long corridor. Monsieur at length paused, cau- 
 tiously half-opened a door, and peeped within. Then, 
 as though satisfied that all was well, he opened the 
 door wide and beckoned Chabanes to follow him. 
 
 " Now, Monsieur," he said, to the count, who was 
 gazing vacantly around the apartment, "you doubt- 
 less recognize the king's cabinet. To-night in the 
 presence of his Majesty I shall accuse you of a pecca- 
 dillo of which you are really not guilty. All I ask of 
 you is to uphold me by penitently confessing. In 
 return for this slight service I promise you that you 
 will be pardoned by the king. Do you consent?" 
 
 "Yes," replied Chabanes, mechanically. He had 
 seated himself in the king's favorite arm-chair. 
 
 "Very well," replied Anjou, with evident delight; 
 " but of course you cannot remain at his Majesty's 
 table. I will conceal you in here," he added, press- 
 ing a spring that caused one of the panels in the wall 
 to slide back and reveal a narrow recess behind. " Go 
 in there and lie down until I am ready to bring you 
 before the king. I will see that food is brought 
 you." 
 
 An idea crossed Chabanes' deadened consciousness.
 
 380 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 This opening in the wall suggested to him his chamber 
 in prison. 
 
 " The Bastille again ! " he muttered, half to himself. 
 
 Anjou laughed. " Exactly," he said. " But for 
 a few hours only." 
 
 The count entered the closet and Anjou closed the 
 panel, leaving Chabanes in darkness. The latter was 
 becoming conscious of two sensations, fatigue and 
 hunger. Accordingly he sat down on the floor and 
 began wishing for something to eat. Presently the 
 panel slid back again, and food and water were pushed 
 into the closet. At first Chabanes did not notice 
 them, but at length, in changing his position, his 
 hand came in contact with the cup, and he began to 
 eat and drink with avidity. When he had finished 
 everything he could find he stretched himself on the 
 floor of the closet and quickly fell fast asleep. 
 
 When he awoke he was again himself. He was at 
 a loss to know where he was, and he at once tried to 
 recall the events of the preceding day. The scene in 
 the chamber of the princess at Champigny came back 
 to him vividly. He recalled leaving the prince and 
 Victoire and going out of the chateau, but after that 
 his mind was blank. His meditations were inter- 
 rupted by the sound of voices, and he perceived 
 a faint ray of light gleaming through a tiny crack. 
 Creeping toward this, he applied his ear to what was 
 evidently a wooden wall or door. Instantly he drew 
 back with surprise. He had heard, with unmis- 
 takable distinctness, the voice of Charles IX., saying, 
 in his familiar, petulant tone, " I tell you, Madame, I 
 will not consent ! "
 
 A PROMISE AND A BLUNDER 381 
 
 Chabanes began to realize that he was in the Louvre, 
 probably in some closet adjoining the king's cabinet. 
 He decided to make no noise for the present, and to 
 listen. 
 
 " Nevertheless," persisted a voice that Chabanes 
 recognized as belonging to the queen-mother, Cath- 
 erine de Medicis, " the Huguenots have sent de- 
 spatches to Germany and to the Swiss cantons for 
 twenty thousand horse and foot, and, not only are the 
 Protestant captains making levies throughout the 
 kingdom and preparing to meet and organize at 
 a time and place already chosen, but the Catholic 
 princes are forming a league, and will soon elect 
 a captain-general to pursue, independently of your- 
 self, the war of extermination on which they are 
 determined." 
 
 " Madame, you are the victim of unauthentic ad- 
 vices. I do not believe half of these reports. My 
 trust in the admiral precludes such a belief." 
 
 "But, Sire," protested the voice of the Due 
 d'Anjou, " you are in daily danger of assassination at 
 the hands of these men, whose avowed ambition is to 
 see Henri de Navarre on the throne of France. Do 
 you not recall the enterprise of Meaux and the 
 attempt led against you, two years ago, by the Comte 
 de Chabanes, who so remarkably effected his escape 
 from the Bastille not long since? " 
 
 " Monsieur," retorted the king, haughtily, " the 
 enterprise of Meaux has been terribly avenged, and 
 I have always had my doubts about the guilt of M. de 
 Chabanes, whom I had reason to consider an honest 
 gentleman and one of the most loyal of my subjects.
 
 382 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 I have always regretted that I accepted the testimony 
 of that cut-throat protege of yours as evidence suffi- 
 cient to cause the imprisonment of the count. It 
 may possibly be news to you when I tell you that I 
 have given strict orders that M. de Chabanes shall 
 not be rearrested." 
 
 " But, Sire " began Anjou, the king angrily in- 
 terrupting him. 
 
 " This audience is at an end, Monsieur." 
 
 Chabanes could hear retreating footsteps and the 
 opening and closing of a door ; doubtless Monsieur 
 had retired. 
 
 " And now, mother," said the king, petulantly, " if 
 you have anything more to say to me, in the name of 
 Heaven say it quickly. I am sick of all these assas- 
 sinations and this reckless bloodshed." 
 
 " My son," replied Catherine, coldly, " it is your 
 duty to the state, to yourself, and to me that you take 
 immediate steps to prevent the accomplishment of the 
 plots that are being daily woven by these Huguenots 
 about the steps of your throne and that portend 
 only disaster. The designs and enterprises of the 
 Reformers will die with their leader, the admiral. A 
 single sword-thrust now will avert the criminal sacri- 
 fice of a thousand lives at a future time. A score 
 of Huguenot chiefs removed, and the safety of your 
 throne will be assured." 
 
 " But, instead," exclaimed the king, " I have sworn 
 to avenge the attack made yesterday on the admiral 
 by M. de Guise's assassin ! " 
 
 " Sire," interposed another voice, which as yet had 
 not spoken, " it is my duty to inform you that the insti-
 
 A PROMISE AND A BLUNDER 383 
 
 gators of that assassin are, instead of the Guises, none 
 other than your brother, the Due d'Anjou, and the 
 queen, your mother." 
 
 " Is whatTavannes says true, Madame? " demanded 
 the king, in a rage. 
 
 " It is, my son. We attempted to relieve you of a 
 duty that must necessarily be painful to you, but 
 which is none the less your duty." 
 
 " Sire," continued the Mardchal de Tavannes, " it is 
 true that the safety of us all lies in the extermination 
 of these treacherous Protestants. I advise you to 
 order the killing not only of the admiral, but of every 
 Huguenot in Paris, including the King of Navarre 
 and the Prince de CondeV' 
 
 " My son," continued Catherine de Medicis, " let 
 me again remind you of the enterprise of Meaux, 
 when these accursed heretics attempted to gain pos- 
 session of your person. Do you desire to see the 
 Due de Guise exalted to the first place in the king- 
 dom as the leader of the Catholics, and the real king? 
 The time to strike a decisive blow has arrived, and 
 you must choose your future. Will you be king, or 
 not?" 
 
 " Norn de Dieu ! " shouted Charles IX., in fury. 
 " I will not answer you now. Leave me, all of you, 
 and return within the hour. You shall then have my 
 final reply." 
 
 Chabanes heard the others depart, and then the 
 king muttering incoherently to himself as he paced 
 up and down the cabinet. The count had quickly 
 realized what was occurring. Catherine and her 
 followers were attempting to gain the king's consent
 
 384 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 to a massacre of all the Huguenots then assembled in 
 Paris, including the good old Amiral de Coligny, who 
 had for years been the very soul of the Protestant 
 organization. 
 
 The count's memory pictured to him in a flash an 
 incident of his boyhood of which Coligny had been 
 the hero. It was the daring rescue by the admiral of 
 a five-year-old lad who had fallen into a millstream at 
 Chatillon. The count and his father were at that 
 time the guests of the admiral. The five-year-old lad 
 that Coligny dexterously drew from beneath the 
 paddles of the mill, was Raoul de la Tour d'lvoire, 
 now Comte de Chabanes. 
 
 The count rose to his feet, feeling carefully above him 
 that he might not strike his head. He made several 
 efforts to move that part of the wall where the ray of 
 light shone, being certain that it must be a sliding 
 panel of some sort. The panel did not budge. 
 Chabanes began to knock softly, and soon he heard 
 the king cease his hurried walking to and fro and 
 approach. Charles IX., ascertaining that the noise 
 came from behind the panel, went to it and demanded 
 in a tone that was not entirely reassured, " Who is 
 there?" 
 
 " It is I, Sire, the Comte de Chabanes." 
 
 " Chabanes here, and in the secret closet ! " ex- 
 claimed the king, incredulously. " Am I dream- 
 ing?" 
 
 The count, hearing nothing, continued his knock- 
 ing. The king crossed the room, removed an arque- 
 bus from the wall, and, carrying it ready for use in 
 his right hand, cautiously approached the secret
 
 I DISAPPEAR BY THE AID OF FAITHFUL AND SUBTLE FRIENDS'
 
 A PROMISE AND A BLUNDER 385 
 
 panel, and, without a word of warning, touched the 
 spring that caused it to slide back. 
 
 The next moment Chabanes was on his knee before 
 his sovereign. 
 
 The king's cabinet was a large room, the walls of 
 which were hung with tapestries and decorated with 
 trophies of arms. Numerous consoles supported 
 cabinets of rare glassware and porcelain. At one 
 side was an elegantly carved priedieu, and in the 
 centre of the chamber stood a table, on which lay 
 scattered in great confusion books, pens, and sheets 
 of paper. A large greyhound lay beside the king's 
 chair. 
 
 " M. de Chabanes," said the king, not unkindly, 
 " how do you manage to appear so mysteriously in 
 and vanish from secure places?" 
 
 " Sire," replied Chabanes, respectfully, " I disap- 
 pear by the aid of faithful and subtle friends. I 
 appear I know not how. I have been half-mad for 
 a time and have not known where I was or what I 
 did only that of a sudden I find myself secreted 
 in your Majesty's closet." 
 
 " And you overheard the conversation that has 
 just occurred here ? " 
 
 " I heard your Majesty say that you did not 
 believe me guilty of the accusations brought against 
 me by the Due d'Anjou." 
 
 " Yet, now that I find you secreted in my closet, I 
 scarce know what to think, Monsieur." 
 
 " Sire, I am at as great a loss to explain the cir- 
 cumstance as is your Majesty." 
 
 " M. de Chabanes, I have reason to believe in your 
 25
 
 386 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 honesty, notwithstanding I did for a time suspect you 
 of a grave and treasonous act. Did you intend my 
 assassination on the night you accompanied me to the 
 Rue des Barres and were so severely wounded by the 
 cut-throats?" 
 
 "I, Sire?" exclaimed Chabanes, in amazement; 
 he began to realize the cause of his imprisonment in 
 the Bastille. " Your Majesty knows that I received 
 my wounds in your defence." 
 
 Charles IX., suspicious and distrustful as he was, 
 could not doubt the sincerity of the count's words. 
 
 " M. de Chabanes," said the king, " you have as 
 I should have known been the victim of a base lie. 
 I have rescinded my order for your imprisonment; 
 you are free." 
 
 The count bowed. The king again began pacing 
 the floor, without paying further attention to Chabanes. 
 The latter saw slipping from him an opportunity to 
 plead what was without doubt the greatest cause in the 
 world. The ominous cloud that overhung the king's 
 brow made him afraid to speak. Presently the king 
 turned to him. 
 
 "What, Monsieur," he said, sharply; "still here? 
 Did I not tell you you were free ? " 
 
 " But," said Chabanes, " I cannot accept the par- 
 don. I have just overheard the conversation that 
 took place here." 
 
 " True," muttered Charles IX., who had for a mo- 
 ment forgotten that fact. " And what, Monsieur," 
 he continued, " is the information that you have so 
 gained ? " 
 
 " That there is a vile conspiracy on hand, Sire, to
 
 A PROMISE AND A BLUNDER 
 
 assassinate one of your Majesty's most faithful sub- 
 jects, the Amiral de Coligny, as well as countless 
 other gentlemen whose sole crime is the sincerity of 
 their religious belief." 
 
 " And you think this conspiracy vile, Monsieur?" 
 
 " I can conceive of nothing more cowardly, Sire, 
 than for a host that has cordially received his guests 
 to give orders for their murder as they sleep." 
 
 " And in case I give these orders you will consider 
 your king the basest of cowards ? " 
 
 " Exactly," replied Chabanes, fearlessly. 
 
 Charles IX. glanced at him in amazement. How- 
 ever, he was not angry. 
 
 " You have been suspected of being a Huguenot, 
 Monsieur," he said, calmly. " You have been accused 
 of plotting against my life in behalf of my cousin, the 
 King of Navarre. As I have told you, I do not 
 believe this latter accusation. But what assurance 
 have I that you are not yourself a heretic and in 
 league with those that the queen-mother assures me 
 are threatening the safety of the throne of France? " 
 
 " Sire, I can offer you none, except my word that 
 I am not a Huguenot." 
 
 " M. de Chabanes," said the king, slowly, " that is 
 sufficient." 
 
 " Nor am I a Catholic," continued Chabanes, " in 
 the sense that I seek the extermination of my fellow- 
 countryman merely because he prefers his manner of 
 worship to my Mass." 
 
 " But," continued the king, glad of this opportunity 
 to argue a matter that weighed heavily on his con- 
 science, " it is perhaps true that, after all, it is not the
 
 388 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 difference in religious views that actuates all these 
 dissensions that have so torn my kingdom, but per- 
 sonal ambition and motive on the part of these 
 Huguenots, who would gladly take from me my 
 throne and set up in my stead my cousin of Navarre." 
 
 " Doubtless, Sire, there are many in both parties 
 that have personal motives. Nevertheless, there are 
 thousands of just such men as the good admiral that 
 are tolerant and that desire nothing better than the 
 privilege to devote their lives to your Majesty's 
 service in peace and liberty." 
 
 " Which being the case, it would be wrong for me 
 to take such heroic measures as the queen-mother has 
 suggested, or especially as M. de Tavannes proposes? " 
 
 " Decidedly. Your Majesty would thus sacrifice 
 hundreds of your truest subjects for the sake of ex- 
 terminating a few that put self first." 
 
 " And do you not believe, Monsieur, that, if I 
 desired merely to rid myself of troublesome and 
 ambitious enemies, I would do well to seek first in 
 the ranks of the Catholic ? " 
 
 Chabanes saw in this an indubitable reference to 
 Guise and Anjou. " Beyond all doubt, Sire," he 
 replied. 
 
 The king did not speak for some time, and the 
 count ventured to continue : " Sire, the Amiral de 
 Coligny is a brave, true gentleman, who has given 
 most of his life to the service of the throne of 
 France, and would gladly offer it his remaining years, 
 if he had the opportunity. The following of his 
 religion embraces many of your Majesty's most loyal 
 subjects. They have come to you as friends, in the
 
 A PROMISE AND A BLUNDER 389 
 
 belief that this marriage of the King of Navarre to 
 your Majesty's sister would cement forever the two 
 parties that have so long been divided before the 
 throne they long to serve. If your Majesty should 
 now give the order for their murder, the world would 
 stand aghast, posterity would curse you, and history 
 would brand you as the meanest of kings and the 
 most cowardly of men ! " 
 
 The king stopped short in his nervous walk and 
 gazed at the count with mingled surprise and admira- 
 tion. Not even Catherine de Medicis dared to ad- 
 dress him thus. He could not know the desperate 
 determination that prompted such daring from a 
 simple gentleman of the court. The king was un- 
 aware of the resolution that the Comte de Chabanes 
 had just formed, that he would not at any risk let 
 slip this great opportunity to do incalculable good. 
 
 " M. de' Chabanes," said Charles IX., impulsively, 
 " fear not. I shall not give the order." 
 
 At that moment steps were heard without. " It is 
 the queen-mother returning," said the king, in a low 
 tone. " Hide yourself behind this tapestry." He 
 pushed Chabanes quickly into a curtained recess in 
 the wall. 
 
 There was a knock at the door, and the king said, 
 in a firm tone, " Enter, Madame." 
 
 Chabanes saw the door open and the queen-mother, 
 Anjou, Tavannes, and the Mare*chal de Retz enter. 
 
 " Well, my son," said Catherine, skilfully conceal- 
 ing her anxiety under a mask of melancholy, "we 
 have returned, as you directed, for your decision. 
 Tell us what it is."
 
 39O A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 " My decision," replied Charles, in a tone of de- 
 termination, " is that I will not under any circum- 
 stances sanction the cowardly murder of my subjects." 
 
 For several minutes no one spoke. At length the 
 queen-mother, coming close to the king, said in a 
 tone of deep sorrow, " My son, since you will not 
 heed my advice, at least grant to myself and to 
 your brother Henri permission to retire to some 
 remote part of the kingdom. We cannot rest here 
 in the knowledge that our lives are in constant 
 danger." 
 
 " Sire ! " exclaimed Anjou, dropping on one knee 
 before the king, " hear me a moment, I beseech you. 
 You have seen fit to doubt the sincerity of my state- 
 ments, without giving me an opportunity to verify 
 them. Two years ago I accused the Huguenots of 
 attempting your Majesty's life. To-night you ex- 
 pressed a doubt as to the honesty of the accusation. 
 If you will permit me, I shall confront your Majesty 
 with the assassin himself, who will admit his guilt." 
 
 With these words Monsieur crossed the room to 
 the secret panel where Chabanes had been hid, 
 pressed the spring, and, as the panel slid back, said 
 dramatically, " Come forth, M. le Comte ! " 
 
 As there was no response he put his head into the 
 closet and repeated the command. 
 
 " He is gone ! " he exclaimed, suddenly, trembling 
 with terror. 
 
 The others stared at him in amazement. At length 
 the king, who was evidently in a state of great agita- 
 tion, arose from his chair, commanding with a gesture 
 the attention of the others.
 
 A PROMISE AND A BLUNDER 391 
 
 " Yes, he is not there," he said, angrily, " but he 
 is not far away. The mystery of his presence there 
 is clear now. He had agreed to confess his guilt, had 
 he not, Henri ? " 
 
 " Yes, Sire," responded Monsieur, eagerly. 
 
 " And instead," continued the king, half to himself, 
 " he seized the opportunity I granted him to play on 
 my feelings with his lying words ! " 
 
 Charles IX. seized pen and paper. 
 
 " I will give the word you desire," he cried, in a 
 terrible rage. " By God's death ! Since you think 
 it proper to kill the admiral, I consent ; but you must 
 kill all the Huguenots in France as well, so that there 
 may not remain one that can reproach me. And I 
 order you to commence at once by killing me 
 this heretic hypocrite that stands behind yonder 
 tapestry ! " 
 
 At these words, with a cry of joy, Anjou, followed 
 by Tavannes, drew his sword, sprang to the tapestry 
 the king had designated, and drew it aside. 
 
 The recess was empty.
 
 XXXIII 
 
 A MASSACRE AND A MANIAC 
 
 * | S HE moment Chabanes heard the king, influ- 
 * enced by his strangely mistaken idea of Anjou's 
 motive, angrily sanction the proposed assassination of 
 Coligny, he determined on a last effort to save the 
 admiral's life. A window at the rear of the recess 
 was open. The count hastened to it, realizing that 
 there was no hope of escape through the cabinet of 
 the king, and found that just beneath it was a ledge 
 about eighteen inches in width that ran along the 
 wall of the palace. He distinguished, twenty paces 
 farther along the ledge, a scaffolding that some work- 
 men, repairing the wall, had not yet removed. He 
 hastily climbed out of the window on to the ledge, 
 along which he ran until he reached the scaffolding. 
 By means of this latter structure, he was able to de- 
 scend to within a few feet of the ground, whence he 
 dropped to the soft turf. 
 
 In the courtyard of the Louvre everything was in 
 the utmost confusion. Soldiers, horsemen, torch- 
 bearers, and messengers ran hither and thither in the 
 greatest excitement. Chabanes proceeded at once 
 to the gate. A man just about to pass through 
 ahead of him gave the guard the word, and in his 
 excitement spoke it so loud that the count over-
 
 CHABANES PERCEIVED A MAN STANDING WITH ONE FOOT ON THE BODY
 
 A MASSACRE AND A MANIAC 393 
 
 heard it ; when the sentinel challenged Chabanes, the 
 latter repeated, " Guise." He was allowed to pass 
 unmolested. 
 
 Once outside he found the streets full of excited 
 persons scurrying in every direction. Bodies of 
 soldiery in the uniforms of Guise's and Anjou's 
 guards marched past the palace. Chabanes recog- 
 nized the Due de Guise riding at the head of a troop 
 of horsemen, side by side with Jean Choron, the 
 provost of the tradesmen. The count noticed that 
 every man he passed wore a white cross on his hat 
 and a band of white around his sleeve. 
 
 As Chabanes was passing into the Rue de Bethisy, 
 in which resided the admiral, the bell in the tower of 
 Saint Germain 1'Auxerrois rang out loudly on the 
 night air. 
 
 " The signal ! " cried a hundred voices at once, and 
 immediately the street began to swarm with men, all 
 running toward the admiral's house. The count re- 
 doubled his speed, determined to arrive first. As he 
 came opposite the building he heard an outcry and 
 several shots. The court of the admiral's house was 
 lighted by a hundred torches. Suddenly a window 
 on the second story was opened and a man appeared. 
 Chabanes from the street recognized in him the 
 German, Besme. 
 
 " It is finished, Monseigneur ! " cried Besme, to 
 some one in the court, whom Chabanes could not see. 
 The German retired into the room and immediately 
 reappeared, dragging after him the body of a man. 
 Chabanes saw him lift this body and, exerting all his 
 strength, hurl it from the window. As the body fell
 
 394 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 it caught on a ledge of stone, and it seemed that its 
 arms reached out in a last spasmodic effort to save 
 itself. It slid along the ledge and fell into the court. 
 The count ran with all haste through the open gate 
 and found the court crowded with men, surrounding 
 a central group beneath the window at which Besme 
 had just appeared. Chabanes pushed his way to the 
 centre of the crowd, and perceived a man standing 
 with one foot on the body that had just been cast from 
 above. The man was the Due de Guise; the body 
 was that of Coligny. The countenance of the former 
 wore a melancholy expression as he gazed thought- 
 fully down at the corpse of his enemy, from which the 
 blood flowed in a dozen places. 
 
 How much more terrible would have been the storm 
 of emotion that waged within him, could he have fore- 
 seen a day, some years later, when he, too, Henri 
 de Guise, " Le Balafre,"- would lie a senseless heap 
 of mangled flesh, while Henri d'Anjou, doomed but 
 a few days later to meet the same fate, gloated over 
 the murder of Guise, as Guise now gloated over that 
 of Coligny ! 
 
 Chabanes turned away from the place in deepest 
 despair. Guards had surrounded the admiral's house 
 two hours before, and, at the first sound of the tocsin, 
 Besme, at the head of fifty men, had broken into 
 Coligny's house, killed the sentry, and assassinated 
 the admiral. In the street Chabanes saw that men 
 with white crosses and scarfs were breaking into all 
 the houses that were not similarly adorned and where 
 Huguenots resided, and ruthlessly putting the inhabi- 
 tants to death. There was a bedlam of crashing
 
 A MASSACRE AND A MANIAC 395 
 
 swords, guns fired, and shrieks of agony mingled with 
 the brutal yells of the infuriated mob. 
 
 A man dressed in black, pursued by a laughing 
 fellow in gayer raiment, ran past the count. " Kill 
 him ! " cried the pursuer, eagerly; " he has no cross." 
 Chabanes immediately realized the significance of the 
 white badges and, seeing a hat that bore one and that 
 had been lost in some scuffle, he hastily substituted 
 it for his own, at the same time tying his handker- 
 chief around his sleeve. This was done just in time, 
 for several armed citizens, looking for victims, ap- 
 proached him a moment later and passed him only 
 when they perceived the white cross. 
 
 Here and there parties of Huguenot gentlemen 
 bravely defended themselves against their assailants. 
 Windows, doors, and balconies bristled with halberds, 
 swords, and arquebuses. Corpses strewed the streets 
 on every hand. Occasionally Chabanes saw two 
 men, each with a white cross in his hat, poniarding 
 each other. They were taking advantage of the 
 occasion to avenge petty spites and personal enmi- 
 ties. The count resolved to make the most of every 
 opportunity to defend those that were unequally 
 matched with overwhelming forces, regardless of their 
 party. 
 
 In the Rue des Quatre Fils the count found three 
 men clamoring for admittance to a house. He joined 
 them as they burst in the door and rushed inside. 
 The front rooms of the house were all deserted, but 
 in a rear one they found a woman half-dressed stand- 
 ing with her back to a door. The three men, who 
 were in advance of Chabanes, approached the woman
 
 396 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 with the evident purpose of killing her. The count's 
 indignation was so great that he did not hesitate to 
 pierce one of the men from behind with his sword. 
 The other two turned and fell on the count with fury, 
 driving him back to the wall and raining ferocious 
 blows on him. His advantage as a superior swords- 
 man and in retaining his self-control soon exhibited 
 itself. He managed to disarm one of the men and to 
 disable the other, before his companion could recover 
 his weapon. The last had had enough of the bewilder- 
 ing fencing of Chabanes, and he hastily retreated 
 through the nearest window. The woman, who had 
 watched the combat* with terror lest her defender be 
 overpowered, overwhelmed Chabanes with thanks. 
 
 " You are my husband's savior ! " she cried, tears 
 of gratitude rolling down her cheeks. " He is ill in 
 this room and would surely have been murdered by 
 these men, who are his enemies." 
 
 Chabanes modestly withdrew to the street. The 
 gaily dressed man of the Rue de B6thizy rushed past 
 him, sword in hand, in pursuit of a disarmed Hugue- 
 not. Chabanes recognized in the pursuer Chicot, the 
 court jester, whose rapier reeked with blood and who 
 was still laughing merrily. Presently three Huguenots 
 scurried past the count, their eyes bulging with terror. 
 They were pursued by a dozen assassins and the 
 count joined these latter, in the hope of assisting the 
 persecuted men. The Huguenots were headed for 
 the river, into which they plunged amid the murmurs 
 of disappointment from the Catholics. One of these 
 latter brutally seized by the collar a lad of less than 
 ten, who had just shouted, " Long live the admiral ! "
 
 A MASSACRE AND A MANIAC 397 
 
 and was about to stab the child with a dagger. The 
 count attacked the bully, piercing the latter's throat. 
 In an instant five others fell on Chabanes, with the 
 intention of avenging their comrade. The count 
 managed to withstand the onslaught for a few minutes, 
 but he realized that he could not last long against 
 such opposition. Just as one of his antagonists gave 
 him a sword-thrust through the left arm, there 
 appeared from a neighboring street a man bearing a 
 cresset-light in a lantern at the end of a long pole. 
 The child that Chabanes had just saved, who was 
 witnessing the combat in greatest alarm, ran into the 
 middle of the street and, slipping between the legs of 
 the lantern-bearer, tripped the latter so that he fell 
 flat on his face. In an instant the child had seized 
 the pole and, returning to where Chabanes was still 
 valiantly holding off the five men, he dashed the 
 cresset- light down into the midst of the group. The 
 count's assailants recoiled before this sudden flash in 
 their eyes, and Chabanes, who could feel the warm 
 blood rapidly filling his sleeve, darted from their 
 midst, knocking one of them over, and turned quickly 
 into a side-street. He had not gone twenty paces 
 when he witnessed the cowardly murder of a feeble 
 old man by a powerful young bully, who laughed up- 
 roariously as he saw the death struggles of his victim. 
 Chabanes' blood boiled with rage and he rushed on the 
 young man, sending him to the ground with a blow 
 from the flat of his sword. He restrained his impulse 
 to end the bully's cowardly life, and stepped over the 
 prostrate form of the old man in order to gain the 
 next corner, whence emanated shrill cries of anguish.
 
 398 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 As he turned his back he felt a sharp pain in his 
 shoulder, and he wheeled quickly, to find the bully with 
 a reddened dagger in his hand. The latter made an- 
 other effort to stab Chabanes, who at once thrust his 
 sword into his assailant's breast. As he did so the 
 count uttered a cry of pain. His wounded shoulder 
 bled profusely, and each movement of his sword arm 
 caused him great distress. Chabanes shifted his 
 weapon to his left hand, which, although his left arm 
 was pierced by a sword-thrust, lessened his pain. 
 
 A house some paces ahead of him burst into flames. 
 The assassins, after murdering its occupants, had 
 applied their torches to the building. A man bear- 
 ing the apparently lifeless body of a young girl 
 hurried past Chabanes and, when he had reached the 
 burning house, thrust the body through an open 
 window, which the flames had almost reached. The 
 man then ran on, and Chabanes, darting to the house, 
 burst in the door in the hope of saving the woman, who 
 he fancied was not yet dead. He found the latter in 
 the centre of a large room that was surrounded by 
 leaping, roaring flames. The count, regardless of the 
 pain in his shoulder, lifted the girl and started for 
 the street. At the same moment there was a crash, 
 and he felt the floor sinking beneath him. Then he 
 had a sudden fall, and when he regained his senses 
 he found himself in the corner of a cellar and sur- 
 rounded on three sides by burning timbers. Through 
 the flames, at some little distance, he perceived the 
 body of the girl, which he had dropped when the 
 floor gave way. She was already enveloped in fire 
 and, as she did not move, Chabanes decided that
 
 A MASSACRE AND A MANIAC 399 
 
 she had been already dead when the man cast her 
 body to the flames. The heat was terrible, and the 
 count saw that at any moment the embers from the 
 burning timbers might fall on him and set his cloth- 
 ing ablaze. He was sitting with his back to a low 
 iron door which, strangely enough, was still refresh- 
 ingly cool. He endeavored to open it and it yielded 
 to a strong pull, a stream of cold air rushing from 
 behind it and fanning back the flames. Chabanes 
 threw himself through the opening and quickly closed 
 the door. He found himself in a passage, at the 
 farther end of which he perceived a burning torch. 
 The house that Chabanes had entered was evidently 
 that of some murdered Huguenot family, and it was in 
 the remnant of an abandoned secret tunnel that the 
 count had just taken refuge from the flames. The 
 farther end of this tunnel had been filled in, for 
 the count, after proceeding along it for twenty yards, 
 came to its termination. The torch that he had per- 
 ceived on entering the passage was held by a man 
 who sat against the wall of earth terminating the 
 passage. 
 
 As Chabanes approached, the man sprang to his 
 feet with a horrible cry and, seizing a great stone 
 in his powerful hands, brandished it threateningly. 
 
 " Come, friend," said the count, pausing in alarm at 
 the man's appearance, " I am not your enemy, so you 
 may as well put down your stone." 
 
 The man made no reply, except a loud, discord- 
 ant laugh. He was evidently mad, doubtless as a 
 result of the terrible night's occurrences. Chabanes 
 recoiled in alarm. He had lost his sword in the burn-
 
 4OO A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 ing house and his only weapon was his dagger. The 
 maniac, seeing Chabanes retreat, advanced, still pois- 
 ing the stone. The heat from the burning house 
 could now be felt in the passageway. Glancing behind 
 him, Chabanes saw that the iron door was beginning 
 to glow with a dull red. The maniac still continued 
 to advance and the count to retreat. The roaring of 
 the flames on the other side of the door could be 
 distinctly heard. At length Chabanes had approached 
 the door as nearly as the intense heat would permit. 
 The maniac contemplated his victim's plight with 
 evident delight, for he continued to laugh diabolically. 
 Presently he was within ten paces of Chabanes. He 
 placed the torch against the wall and again balanced 
 the stone in both hands. 
 
 Chabanes realized that he was about to be crushed 
 beneath it. He therefore resolved to make an- 
 other effort to save himself, and suddenly he rushed 
 on the madman with drawn dagger just as the latter 
 hurled the stone straight at his head. The count saw 
 the missile thrown, and he cast himself forward on his 
 face. At the same instant the madman's foot slipped 
 and the torch was overturned and extinguished, leav- 
 ing them in total darkness save for the angry glow 
 of the iron door. The stone passed over Cha- 
 banes, falling heavily on his foot. His agony was 
 terrible, and he realized that his foot had been 
 frightfully crushed. The madman heard his victim's 
 groans with evident enjoyment, for he laughed con- 
 tinually. After a time the pain in his foot ceased, 
 giving way to a numbness, and the count, dragging 
 himself toward the wall, leaned his back against it.
 
 A PROMISE AND A BLUNDER 4<3I 
 
 The laughter of the maniac gradually lessened and, 
 finally, for some minutes no sound, save the crackling 
 and roaring of the flames without, broke the silence. 
 
 Presently Chabanes heard his assailant move, and 
 he listened with every nerve strained for a repetition 
 of the sound. In a few moments the madman moved 
 again ; he was creeping cautiously to where the count 
 lay. The latter grasped his dagger more firmly and 
 waited. The maniac crawled very slowly and with 
 great caution. Inch by inch, he dragged himself 
 nearer, in the evident belief that he made no sound 
 that his enemy could hear. Chabanes scarcely 
 breathed, so intense was his desire to hear every 
 movement of the maniac. Once, when he had heard 
 nothing for several minutes, he imagined that he felt 
 the hot breath of the madman on his cheeks, and he 
 slashed out before him with fury, his flesh creeping 
 with terror, and perspiration bursting from every pore. 
 The wounds in his arm and shoulder no longer bled, 
 though they pained him severely with each movement. 
 
 At last the madman, thinking he was within reach 
 of his victim, gave a sudden bound and fell within a 
 few feet of the latter. Chabanes leaned out in the 
 direction of the sound and plunged his dagger down- 
 ward with all his strength. There was a terrible 
 shriek, followed by an intense silence, and the count 
 realized that the knife had done its work. He let his 
 hand slowly slip down the handle of the dagger till it 
 touched the flesh of its victim. Then he uttered a 
 cry of horror and, shuddering violently, withdrew his 
 hand. The dagger had pierced the eye of the mad- 
 man, clear to the hilt. 
 
 26
 
 XXXIV 
 
 A LOVE AND A LIFE 
 
 CHABANES sat quiet for some moments. The 
 roaring of the flames had ceased, and the glow 
 had disappeared from the iron door. The count 
 wondered what time it was and drew from his pocket 
 his striking watch; the bell rang three times. He 
 then, for lack of other occupation than soul-crushing 
 meditation, speculated on the reason for his dead 
 assailant's presence in the passageway. " Doubtless," 
 he thought, " it is some Huguenot, driven mad by the 
 slaughter about him, who had taken refuge in the 
 cellar, like me, compelled by the flames to seek this 
 hole." 
 
 Chabanes decided to explore the passage more 
 thoroughly and ascertain if, after all, there was no 
 opening at the farther end. He began to crawl in 
 that direction, carefully feeling the walls on either 
 side as he went. At length, after having traversed 
 the passage for fifteen yards, he came in contact with 
 the wall of earth seated against which he had first 
 seen the madman. On the floor of the passage he 
 felt something cold that proved to be a sword. 
 Doubtless the Huguenot had left it there, preferring, 
 in his frenzy, the stone as a weapon. Chabanes 
 placed the sword in his own empty scabbard.
 
 A LOVE AND A LIFE 403 
 
 " Heaven grant me one more chance to draw it in a 
 good cause ! " he cried, fervently. He tried in every 
 manner to stifle the terror aroused by the thought of 
 his position in this underground tomb. He recalled 
 vividly the events of his last night at Champigny. 
 His brain reeled with the memory of the quick suc- 
 cession of terrible events that had made up the last 
 few days. He felt that he must do something, take 
 his mind off those events, or, like the Huguenot he 
 had killed, go mad. He crawled back toward the 
 other end of the passage, but, finding this means of 
 locomotion excessively slow, arose to his feet. He 
 found that, whenever he placed his wounded foot on 
 the ground, it began to pain him, this pain ceasing 
 when the foot was in contact with nothing. Placing 
 his hand against the wall, he hopped along the pas- 
 sage for some distance and suddenly fell flat on his face. 
 He had stumbled over the body of the Huguenot, 
 which lay across the floor. He recovered himself 
 and proceeded toward the iron door. It was still too 
 hot to touch. He sat down not far from it and 
 decided to wait until it cooled, before making any 
 further explorations. After an interminable interval 
 he again drew out his watch and pressed the spring. 
 This time it struck six. 
 
 Chabanes crawled to the iron door and placed his 
 finger against it ; it was cold. He placed his hand 
 on the clasp and attempted to open the door. The 
 clasp refused to budge, notwithstanding he leaned all 
 his weight on it. The reason for this became apparent 
 to him; it was welded together by the heat. He 
 withdrew from the door in despair.
 
 404 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 Presently an idea struck him, and he crawled back 
 and found the stone that was cast by the maniac. 
 Then he returned to the door and, supporting himself 
 against the wall, hurled the missile, still moist with his 
 own blood, with all his strength at the iron. The 
 door rattled beneath the force of the blow, but did not 
 yield. The count recovered the stone and hurled 
 it at the door again and again. The pain from his 
 wounds was excruciating. He felt that the wound in 
 his shoulder had opened again and was bleeding. At 
 last he was rewarded by the sight of a faint streak 
 of light over the top of the door. With increased de- 
 termination he renewed his assault on the barrier. 
 The ray of light grew, and Chabanes saw that the 
 door was gradually yielding. Finally, when his 
 strength was almost exhausted, the door burst from 
 its hinges and fell back on a heap of smouldering 
 ashes. The count rushed to the opening, blinded by 
 the flood of morning light that filled the passage. 
 
 The corner of the cellar in which Chabanes had 
 found himself, when he fell with the floor of the 
 burning building, was walled in by a mass of charred 
 timbers. Above him he could see the misty morn- 
 ing sky. He at once began to clear the timbers 
 away from him so as to make a passage to the street. 
 This he found not difficult, as the wood had burned 
 almost entirely through and it broke readily in his 
 hands. His only danger was that he might allow the 
 heavy masses above to fall and crush him. 
 
 He succeeded at length in reaching the outer wall 
 of the cellar, and he was on the point of making the 
 ascent to the street, by means of a rickety scaffolding
 
 A LOVE AND A LIFE 405 
 
 of burnt timbers, when he heard a voice that thrilled 
 him from head to foot. It was that of the Prince de 
 Montpensier, who could not be more than a few yards 
 distant. 
 
 " Ho, there, Frangois ! " cried the prince. " What 
 are you doing here?" 
 
 " I seek M. le Comte de Chabanes, Monseigneur," 
 was the stammered reply, in tones the count recog- 
 nized as those of his valet. 
 
 " And how come you in Paris, when you should be 
 at Champigny? " 
 
 " I rode here with Mme. la Princesse and Antoinette 
 de Lerac, Monseigneur. Mme. de Montpensier is 
 also seeking M. de Chabanes. She has gone with her 
 maid in the opposite direction." 
 
 " The princess in Paris ! " Chabanes heard Mont- 
 pensier exclaim, half to himself. Then he added, 
 " Francois, how do you know M. de Chabanes is in 
 Paris?" 
 
 " We have traced him to the Cours-la-Reine, Mon- 
 seigneur, but we cannot find him in the city. He was 
 half-demented, and he must have been murdered." 
 
 " Listen, Frangois : Hercules is at the H6tel de 
 Montpensier. Go there at once and bring him to 
 me. I will meet you in a half-hour on this spot. 
 Hercules will soon find his master, even in the midst 
 of all this havoc." 
 
 " I will go at once, Monseigneur," replied the valet, 
 eagerly. 
 
 Chabanes heard this dialogue with the greatest 
 emotion. He trembled violently at every sound of 
 the familiar voices. Montpensier desired to find him.
 
 406 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 Victoire was in Paris seeking him. They believed 
 him demented and, doubtless, murdered. He was 
 about to cry out to the prince. 
 
 " Poor Raoul ! " he heard Montpensier mutter to 
 himself, in accents of sincerest grief. Then he heard 
 the prince's steps slowly dying away. 
 
 " Charles," he .cried, " I am here Raoul ! " His 
 voice scarcely rose above a whisper ; his mouth was 
 dry as powder ; his lips refused to form the words he 
 longed to shout. 
 
 Chabanes sank to the ground in despair. "It is 
 the judgment of Heaven ! " he moaned. " I have 
 no right to speak to him, no right ever to see him, 
 or her, again ! " 
 
 Hearing the sound of approaching hoofs, he des- 
 perately dragged himself to his feet and recommenced 
 the tedious ascent to the street. After all, he must not 
 die here without making an effort to save himself. 
 
 The horses for there were two of them came 
 nearer. At length they were opposite the ruins in 
 which Chabanes was buried. One of the riders spoke, 
 and the count shook as though with an ague. He 
 passed his hand over his dust-stained forehead in 
 a gesture of stupefaction. The voice was that of 
 Victoire. 
 
 " Ruin and havoc on every hand, Anne ! " he heard 
 her exclaim. " What frightful things have occurred 
 in Paris ! I fear we shall find him among these 
 corpses, rather than among the living ! " Her voice 
 was filled with ineffable sadness. 
 
 Whom were they seeking? Dare he hope that it 
 was he? Again the impulse seized him to shout
 
 PRESENTLY THE GERMAN RETURNED ON FOOT TO RENEW THE CONFLICT
 
 A LOVE AND A LIFE 407 
 
 to them that he was in the cellar, wounded, ex- 
 hausted, dying. As before, he could utter no 
 sound. 
 
 His brain reeled madly ; he exerted all his strength, 
 and he had almost succeeded in reaching the top of 
 the wall, when he again heard the ring of hoofs, this 
 time approaching rapidly. Soon voices came to him 
 from the street and he heard a renewed clatter of 
 hoofs near-by, a command to halt, and an outcry. 
 
 " They are Huguenots ! " cried a voice that seemed 
 familiar to the count. " A thousand devils ! Return ; 
 we must not let them escape ! " 
 
 " Have mercy on us, M. de Besme ! " implored the 
 voice of Victoire, despairingly. "We are Catholic 
 gentlemen, and wish you no harm." 
 
 "Nom de Dieu!" replied the German accents of 
 Besme. "Do you think to trick me with such a 
 lie ? I know a Catholic gentleman when I see one, 
 especially at a time like this." 
 
 There was a woman's scream, and the count again 
 recognized the voice of the Princesse-de Montpensier 
 imploring mercy. It flashed over him that Victoire 
 and her maid were there in the street alone with this 
 German monster and about to be killed. He made 
 a violent effort and gained the top of the wall. He 
 dragged himself into the street and, leaning against 
 a horse-block, stood on his uninjured foot. 
 
 His anxious eyes saw only three cavaliers, one of 
 whom he at once recognized as Besme, and the other 
 two at first seemed strangers to him. As the count 
 rose to a standing position Besme rushed on the 
 others with drawn sword.
 
 408 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 " Help ! " cried the voice of Victoire. 
 
 Chabanes could not believe his senses. Could 
 that be the Princesse de Montpensier, disguised, and 
 in a man's costume ? He did not reflect long, for he 
 saw that a murder was about to be committed, neither 
 of the cavaliers that Besme was about to attack draw- 
 ing his sword at the German's approach. The count 
 hobbled into the middle of the street, regardless of 
 his mangled foot, and threw himself desperately be- 
 tween Besme and the latter's intended victim. Besme's 
 sword descended with great force and crashed into 
 Chabanes' shoulder. 
 
 The count did not utter an outcry. He had recog- 
 nized Victoire beneath the wig and false beard. 
 " Dismount and run quickly for shelter ! " he cried to 
 her, drawing his sword and preparing to face, wounded 
 as he was, the German, who had retreated at this sud- 
 den interposition of another. 
 
 The three riders uttered a simultaneous cry. 
 
 " Raoul ! " cried one. 
 
 " M. de Chabanes ! " exclaimed another. 
 
 " At last ! " shouted Besme. 
 
 The two women instantly dismounted and ran for 
 shelter, while the German rushed fiercely at the 
 count. The latter stepped aside in time to parry his 
 enemy's blow and to thrust his sword into the horse's 
 throat. In an instant both steed and rider were roll- 
 ing in the dust. Chabanes watched them calmly, 
 supporting himself on his sword. Presently the Ger- 
 man, swearing with rage and mortification, having 
 extricated himself, returned on foot to renew the con- 
 flict. Chabanes, as he stood awaiting him, was in-
 
 ' A LOVE AND A LIFE 409 
 
 deed a terrifying spectacle. His face was covered 
 with a crust of blood and dust, his hair dishevelled, 
 and his clothing torn and burned to shreds and 
 tatters. A stream of blood trickled down his left 
 arm, which hung limp, and dropped from his fingers 
 to the ground. 
 
 Besme sprang at him fiercely, believing that in his 
 enemy's wounded condition he should have little 
 trouble in exhausting him. Indeed, Chabanes was 
 able to maintain his erect position only through the 
 exercise of his wonderful will, but he valiantly re- 
 ceived the furious attack of the German. The con- 
 test was short and furious. Chabanes, forced by his 
 wounded foot to maintain one position, received a 
 thrust that staggered him. Besme saw him falter 
 and laughed fiendishly, at the same time recklessly 
 allowing his own guard to become lax. Chabanes, 
 with a final effort, hurled himself forward and ran his 
 antagonist through to the hilt. The German and 
 Chabanes fell at the same moment, the one dead and 
 the other terribly wounded. 
 
 Victoire and Antoinette, who had watched this 
 fierce combat in extreme terror and grief, ran for- 
 ward and threw themselves on their knees beside 
 Chabanes. He smiled faintly as he recognized them ; 
 they had torn off their hats and wigs. 
 
 " Raoul ! " cried the princess. " It is I, Victoire ; 
 do you know me ? " 
 
 " Yes, Victoire," Chabanes replied, feebly ; " and 
 Antoinette here, I know, too." He was breathing 
 laboredly. 
 
 Antoinette had moistened her handkerchief at a
 
 410 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGKT 
 
 horse-trough near-by, and she passed it over his 
 features, removing the blood and dust that covered 
 them. The count faintly smiled his thanks. 
 
 " Can you not rise, Raoul ? " asked Victoire, ten- 
 derly. " We have come such a weary way for you, 
 and it breaks my heart to find you so wounded ! " 
 
 Chabanes did not reply; his breathing became 
 momentarily more difficult and he clutched convul- 
 sively at his breast. Antoinette gently unfastened 
 his doublet about his throat. There was a long 
 wound in his chest from which the blood spouted at 
 every breath. 
 
 " My God, Madame ! " she murmured to Victoire. 
 " He is dying ! " 
 
 Again Chabanes smiled peacefully. He now 
 seemed to be unconscious of pain. 
 
 " Dying ! " wailed the princess, wildly. " Oh, no ; 
 it cannot be! You will live, Raoul, will you not? 
 We have so much to tell you, so much to ask you to 
 forgive, so much to do for you ! " 
 
 Antoinette began to cry softly, hiding her face in 
 her kerchief. Chabanes' eyes lighted up with joy. 
 
 "Yes," he said, slowly and with the greatest ef- 
 fort, " I am dying. What have you to tell 
 me?" 
 
 " Raoul ! Raoul ! " wailed Victoire, piteously. " Oh, 
 I cannot bear to give you up ! Live for me again 
 as you have always lived for me only, now, I will 
 always live for you. Oh, my God, must he die for 
 me, too? " 
 
 Chabanes' breathing was becoming weaker and his 
 strength was almost gone. He made another effort
 
 A LOVE AND A LIFE 411 
 
 to speak, but he could only whisper. " Yes, I must 
 die for you, too," he said, slowly ; " but I shall do so 
 happy in the thought that you want me to live." 
 
 " Oh, my God ! " Victoire cried. " How you suffer ! 
 How you have suffered ! How I have always made 
 you suffer ! Live for me, Raoul, that I may atone by 
 making you happy ! " 
 
 " I am already repaid a thousand times for my 
 sufferings," whispered Chabanes, faintly. "I never 
 knew you cared for me so." 
 
 At that moment a chattering party of men and 
 women rode past They were courtiers, out viewing 
 the results of the massacre, and they jested lightly as 
 they gazed from corpse to corpse and ruin to ruin. 
 At their head rode the Due de Guise beside the 
 Marquise de Noirmoustier, his new mi-stress. 
 
 " What an extraordinary interest those two gentle- 
 men seem to be taking in that dead man ! " exclaimed 
 Guise to the marquise. " One would think corpses 
 were rare in Paris ! " 
 
 Victoire raised her eyes just as the marquise, in 
 expressing her appreciation of the duke's jest, was 
 bestowing a familiar tap on his shoulder. 
 
 " I love you, Raoul ! " said the princess, with the 
 utmost fervency. " I love you ! " 
 
 The light of supreme happiness irradiated the 
 count's features. 
 
 " The prince forgives you all, and has asked me to 
 make you happy. He also loves you, but not as I do. 
 I love you, Raoul ! " 
 
 " Then God be praised ! " he whispered, faintly, so 
 that Victoire had to incline her face very near to his
 
 412 A PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 in order to hear, and so that her tears fell on his pale 
 cheek. " My joy lacks nothing ! " 
 
 He closed his eyes peacefully. Victoire did not 
 know when he died. She had only his word the 
 inviolate word of the Comte de Chabanes that he 
 died happy in the knowledge that it was for her sake 
 and that she loved him at last. 
 
 And so he died, as he had lived, smiling in his pain, 
 experiencing in a few brief moments what repaid him 
 amply for years of struggle and self-sacrifice ; brave 
 and true, and in the knowledge that, in spite of all, 
 the escutcheon of Raoul de la Tour d'lvoire, Comte de 
 Chabanes, remained as spotless as new-fallen snow. 
 
 Victoire tenderly raised his head and placed it on 
 her knee, smoothing back the matted hair from the 
 pale brow. Then she leaned forward and reverently 
 kissed his tranquil forehead. 
 
 There was a step at her side and a hand rested on 
 her shoulder. Looking up, she met the kindly face of 
 Mother Franchise. Simultaneously they recognized 
 each other. 
 
 " Mother," said Victoire, softly, as though she 
 feared disturbing his slumbers, " this was the noblest 
 man in all the world." 
 
 " Did he die unshriven, daughter? " 
 
 " God gave him absolution, Mother, in the manner 
 of his death. He died for me, as he had lived for me." 
 
 Again Victoire's tears joined those of Antoinette as 
 they knelt together beside their dead. Presently 
 Mother Frangoise placed her hands on the discon- 
 solate women's heads. 
 
 " Come, my daughters," she said, gently, a world
 
 A LOVE AND A LIFE 413 
 
 of tender sympathy in her voice, " there are tears to 
 dry and prayers to offer, work for us all to do. God 
 will take care of his soul." 
 
 A man, followed by a great boar-hound rushed up 
 to them. It was Francois. He had found Hercules, 
 who, turned adrift from the Bastille after Chabanes' 
 escape, had made his way to the H6tel de Mont- 
 pensier. 
 
 Frangois perceived the body of Chabanes and at 
 once understood the meaning of the women's tear- 
 stained faces. He knelt beside his dead master and 
 burst into heart-broken sobs. Hercules, who had 
 bounded gleefully up to the group, dropped his tail 
 at the sight of his master lying still and pale. He 
 stretched himself on the ground and, uttering little 
 plaintive growls, began to crawl slowly toward the 
 spot where lay the count. At length he gained his 
 dead master's side and diffidently licked his hand. 
 He stepped back expectantly as though he anticipated 
 a caress. Then he crawled to his master's feet and 
 lay with his nose buried between his paws. 
 
 Victoire withdrew her hand from that of Mother 
 Franchise and again threw herself on her knees beside 
 the body of her dead lover. She lifted his head in 
 her arms and rained passionate kisses on his white 
 face. Presently some one knelt opposite her, and she 
 raised her glance to the grief-stricken countenance 
 of her husband. Montpensier's eyes were rilled with 
 tears. He extended his hand and Victoire seized it 
 fervently. 
 
 " I told him that you loved him," she said, her voice 
 choking with despair.
 
 414 * PARFIT GENTIL KNIGHT 
 
 " And that you ? " said Montpensier, slowly. 
 
 " That I loved him madly ! " 
 
 " Then, thank God, he knew before he died ! " 
 
 Neither spoke again. Their hearts and eyes were 
 overflowing; their mouths twisted in the agony of 
 inexpressible grief. 
 
 " Come, my daughter," repeated Mother Frangoise, 
 tenderly ; " God has already received his soul." 
 
 FINIS
 
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